With fifteen pictures painted by Leonhard Diefenbach Richly executed in Xylography by Heinrich Knöfler
verses by Miss Rosa Mulholland St. Augustine Academy Press
Come round me, my little children,
For I have a tale to tell More true than the fairy stories You know and love so well!
than
So sweet that the angels above us Have woven it into a song, And up in the glory of heaven Sing it the whole day long.
So sweet that the thrush and blackbird While winging across the sky Have caught the song from the angels, Dropping down from on high. And hearing so lovely a ditty Have wound it up with their notes
To give it to us in warblings Of joy from their musical throats.
And I think that all little children, E’en the tiniest baby thing, May learn this song that the angels Are teaching the birds to sing.
OThat scents the fields of Nazareth, And broad and white the lily blows Once perfumed by our Mother’s breath.
But Mary was more fair to see Low kneeling on the flowery sod
On that glad morn when suddenly The angel came from God!
And winging through the sunshine bore Sweet news to earth from highest heaven, Of tears that should be wept no more And sin that should be quite forgiven.
Sweet news to earth from highest heaven,
For One was coming from above The Holiest from the Eternal throne
To save the children of His love And make them all His own.
O Mary,
hear this wondrous thing,
The Lord will be thy baby son! O birds and little children, sing His will be done! His will be done!
ver the hills and dales they go
And Joseph is kind and cheery, And tenderly guides her footsteps slow For our Mother is sorely weary.
And tenderly guides her footsteps slow
But Caesar calls from a foreign land And patiently thus they wander
To the distant country hand in hand, To Bethlehem lying yonder.
Children of David the mighty king, They come to his ancient city; No friend have they and no wealth they bring And they meet with but little pity.
The inn is full, but the caves are near With weary beasts in the mangers, And the ox and ass that are resting here Make way for the lowly strangers.
Children of David the mighty king, Make way for the lowly strangers.
And deep in the cool of the star-lit night While the rest of the world is dreaming They watch for the dawn of a glorious light In the eyes of a Baby beaming.
