|
|
|
When the herds were watching In the midnight chill, Came a spotless lambkin From the heavenly hill. Snow was on the mountains, And the wind was cold, When from God's own garden Dropped a rose of gold. When 'twas bitter winter, Houseless and forlorn In a star-lit stable Christ the Babe was born. Welcome, heavenly lambkin; Welcome, golden rose; Alleluia, Baby, In the swaddling clothes! |