Explore "Garden and Cradle" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When our babe he goeth walking in his garden, / Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play; / The posies they are good to him, / And bow them as they should to him, / As fareth he upon his kingly way; / And birdlings of the wood to him / Make music, gentle music, all the day, / When our babe he goeth walking in his garden.
When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle, / Then the night it looketh ever sweetly down; / The little stars are kind to him, / The moon she hath a mind to him / And layeth on his head a golden crown; / And singeth then the wind to him / A song, the gentle song of Bethlem-town, / When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle.