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herbert howells - here is the little door lyrics

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here is the little door
lift up the latch, oh lift!
we need not wander more
but enter with our gift;
our gift of finest gold
gold that was never bought or sold;
myrrh to be strewn about his bed;
incense in clouds about his head;
all for the child that stirs not in his sleep
but holy slumber hold with ass and sheep

bend low about his bed
for each he has a gift;
see how his eyes awake
lift up your hands, o lift!
for gold, he gives a keen_edged sword
(defend with it thy little lord!)
for incense, smoke of battle red
myrrh for the honored happy dеad;
gifts for his children, terrible and sweet;
touchеd by such tiny hands
and oh such tiny feet

- herbert howells

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