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<h2> GARDEN AND CRADLE </h2>
<p>When our babe he goeth walking in his garden,<br/>
Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play;<br/>
The posies they are good to him,<br/>
And bow them as they should to him,<br/>
As fareth he upon his kingly way;<br/>
And birdlings of the wood to him<br/>
Make music, gentle music, all the day,<br/>
When our babe he goeth walking in his garden.<br/>
When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle,<br/>
Then the night it looketh ever sweetly down;<br/>
The little stars are kind to him,<br/>
The moon she hath a mind to him<br/>
And layeth on his head a golden crown;<br/>
And singeth then the wind to him<br/>
A song, the gentle song of Bethlem-town,<br/>
When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle.<br/></p>
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