New England Primer e-bog

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. Holy angels guard thy bed Heavenly blessings, without number, Gently falling on thy head. 2 Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment, House and home thy friends provide, All without thy care or payment, All thy wants are well supplied. 3 How much better thou'rt attended Than the Son of God could be, When from heaven he descended, And became a child like thee. 4 Soft and easy is thy cradle, Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When his birth-place was a stable; And his softest bed was hay.