Poems (Tynan)/The Weeping Babe

by Katharine Tynan

THE WEEPING BABE

She kneels by the cradle
 Where Jesus doth lie;
Singing, Lullaby, my Baby!
 But why dost Thou cry?

The babes of the village
 Smile sweetly in sleep;
And lullaby, my Baby,
 That ever dost weep!

I've wrapped Thee in linen,
 The gift of the Kings;
And wool, soft and fleecy.
 The kind Shepherd brings.

There 's a dove on the trellis.
 And wings in the door,
And the gold shoes of angels
 Are bright on our floor.

Then lullaby, my Baby!
 I've fed Thee with milk,
And wrapped Thee in kisses
 As soft as the silk.

And here are red roses,
 And grapes from the vine,
And a lamb trotting softly,
 Thy playfellow fine.

Now smile, little Jesus,
 Whom naught can defile;
All gifts will I give Thee
 An thou wilt but smile.

But it 's lullaby, my Baby!
 And mournful am I,
Thou cherished little Jesus,
 That still Thou wilt cry.