Away in a Manger

No crib for his bed,
The little Lord Jesus
Laid down his sweet head,
The stars in the sky
Looked down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus,
Asleep in the hay.
The cattle are lowing,
The poor baby wakes,
But little Lord Jesus,
No crying he makes.
I love thee, Lord Jesus,
Look down from the sky,
And stay by my side
Until morning is nigh.
A-men