Sleep, baby, sleep, at long last born
In Bethlehem as once foretold,
To parents recently forlorn,
To all who yet may be consoled.
Sleep, baby, sleep, and do not cry
When shepherds from the fields appear,
Just after angels in the sky
Have sung that Christ the Lord is near.
Sleep, baby, sleep, you need not stir
Though weary wise men humbly bring
Gold, frankincense, and even myrrh,
Fine gifts for any earthly king.
Sleep, baby, sleep, as ox and ass
Behold the Son of One “I AM”;
So age to age will come to pass
Till lion shall lie down with lamb.
—Jane Blanchard
JD Vance States the Obvious About Ordo Amoris
We are living, it scarcely needs saying, in unpredictable times. But no one could have imagined that…
Thinking Twice About Re-Enchantment
Since the Enlightenment and the scientific revolution, the story goes, we’ve lived more and more in a…
The Bible Throughout the Ages
The latest installment of an ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein. Bruce Gordon joins in…