Scripture Verse

She wrapped Him in cloths and placed Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7


Words: Au­thor un­known (Dor­mi! Fi­li, Dor­mi!). Trans­lat­ed from La­tin to Eng­lish by Hen­ry Trend in Ly­ra Mes­sia­ni­ca, ed­it­ed by Or­by Ship­ley (Lon­don: Long­man, Green, Long­man, Ro­berts & Green, 1864), pag­es 67–69.

Music: Se­bas­ti­an (Hodges) John S. B. Hodg­es (1830–1915) (🔊 pdf nwc).


Hush! the vir­gin’s song is ring­ing
Through the low­ly man­ger’s shed,
Joseph’s voice the chor­us sing­ing
O’er their glo­ri­ous In­fant’s bed.

Sleep! my child, for in the man­ger
Softest hay be­neath Thee lies;
Loveliest In­fant, here no dan­ger
Can Thy pre­cious life sur­prise.

Sleep! my child, my crown, my beau­ty,
Lulled with nec­tar from my breast;
Sleep! whilst sweet ma­ter­nal du­ty
Watches o’er Thy bal­my rest.

Sleep! my child, so full of sweet­ness,
Sweeter than the hon­ey comb;
Sleep! my joy, my life’s com­plete­ness,
Offspring of my vir­gin womb.

Sleep! my child, and I will ren­der
To Thy wish­es full sup­ply;
Thy dear mo­ther’s plea­sure, ten­der
As the ap­ple of her eye.

Sleep! my Child, my heart’s sole trea­sure,
Giving joy which fears not death;
Angels seem to whis­per plea­sure
When I hear Thy sleep­ing breath.

Sleep! my child; Thy mo­ther sing­ing
Lulls Thee now to calm re­pose;
Joseph’s voice re­spons­ive ring­ing
Softly as the chor­us flows.

Sleep! my child, for I am pour­ing
Rose and vio­let on Thy bed:
Hyacinths be­strew Thy floor­ing;
Lilies lie around Thy head.

Sleep! my child; were min­strels need­ed
I would send for Beth­le­hem’s swains;
Never are their songs un­heed­ed,
None can wak­en ho­li­er strains.