by Nancy Buckley
There is faint music in the night
And pale wings fanned by silver flight
A frosty hill with tender glow
Of countless stars that shine on snow.
A shelter from the winter stormHer eyes are fixed upon His face
A straw-lined manger, safe and warm,
And Mary singing lullabies
To hush her Baby’s sleepy sighs.
Unheeded here is time and space;
Her heart is filled with blinding joy,
For God’s own Son, her baby Boy!
There is faint music in the nightFor God’s own Son — a baby Boy.
And pale wings fanned by silver flight
A frosty hill with tender glow
Of countless stars that shine on snow.
