How far is it to Bethlehem? Not very far?
Shall we find the stable room lit by a star?
Can we see the little child ‘“ is He within?
If we lift the wooden latch, may we go in?
May we stroke the creatures there, ox, ass or sheep?
May we peep like them and see Jesus asleep?
If we touch His tiny hand, will He awake?
Will He know we’ve come so far, just for His sake?
Great kings have precious gifts, and we have naught.
Our smiles and our tears are all we have brought.
For all weary children Mary must weep,
So here on His bed of straw, sleep, children, sleep.
God’s in His mother’s arms; babes in the byre
Sleep, as they sleep who find their heart’s desire.