In 2002 I made a Christmas CD for the family and had forgotten about it until I found a copy in the wardrobe last week.
I’ve pulled from the disk the recording of my rendition of an old carol that became a favorite of ours as sung by Doc Watson.
You can listen here or just read the lyrics if (and who could blame you) you lack the will or the courage to endure my caterwauling and strumming.
Hush My Babe
Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number,
Gently falling on thy head.
How much better are thou attended,
than the Son of God could be
When from heaven He descended,
and became a child like thee.
Soft and easy is thy cradle,
coarse and hard thy Saviour lay.
When His birthplace was a stable,
and his softest bed was hay.
Words: Isaac Watts (1674-1748)
