Sleep, baby mine,
a golden star is burning
in God's clear blue above;
And O! my heart is learning
the miracle of love,
the miracle of love.
Sleep, baby mine,
I hear an angel singing above thy tiny bed;
the scent of heaven is clinging
about Thy tiny head,
about Thy tiny head.
Sleep, baby mine,
to one who humbly bore Thee,
Thy cradle is a throne;
But all the days before Thee
are known to God alone,
are known to God alone.
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