Sweet Babe, That Wrapped in Twilight Shade

Sweet Babe

that wrapped in twi­light shade

Upon Thy mo­ther’s lap wast laid;

Grant

ho­ly Je­sus

grant that we

May imi­tate Thine in­fan­cy.

And when we seek our low­ly bed

While mid­night dark­ens ov­er our head

From rav­en­ing wolves

kind Shep­herd

keep

This lit­tle flock of Thy poor sheep.

Speak peace un­to our souls

and tell

Of heav­en­ly joys with Thee that dwell;

So shall our spir­it

all night long

Sing to our God her thank­ful song.

Thus

as the dy­ing day grows dim

To God we raise our ev­en­ing hymn;

And laud

with Heav­en’s bright an­gel host

The Fa­ther

Son

and Ho­ly Ghost.