Lullaby

A child, a holy child, fast asleep beneath a winter sky, is warm at rest at his mother’s breast as she sings her lullaby. The lamb, the cattle too are sleeping in a bed of hay, and all around there’s no other sound than lullaby, lullay. Lullaby, sleep will, sleep well, my precious one; lullaby, my love, my only son; New life has now begun. So the story goes: once upon a winter morn a tiny boy bringing love and joy, the Prince of Peace was born.