Come hither, lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night, <br />For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white, <br />And yonder sings ye angell as onely angells may, <br />And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye. <br /> <br />To them that have no lyttel childe Godde sometimes sendeth down <br />A lyttel childe that ben a lyttel lambkyn of his owne; <br />And if so bee they love that childe, He willeth it to staye, <br />But elsewise, in His mercie He taketh it awaye. <br /> <br />And sometimes, though they love it, Godde yearneth for ye childe, <br />And sendeth angells singing, whereby it ben beguiled; <br />They fold their arms about ye lamb that croodleth at his play, <br />And beare him to ye garden that bloometh farre awaye. <br /> <br />I wolde not lose ye lyttel lamb that Godde hath lent to me; <br />If I colde sing that angell songe, how joysome I sholde bee! <br />For, with mine arms about him, and my musick in his eare, <br />What angell songe of paradize soever sholde I feare? <br /> <br />Soe come, my lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night, <br />For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white, <br />And yonder sings that angell, as onely angells may, <br />And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye.<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mediaeval-eventide-song/
