Here Is The Little Door

Here Is The Little Door - Rodolfus Choir/Tom Winpenny/Herbert Howells/Ralph Allwood

Written by：Herbert Howells

Here is the little door lift up the latch oh lift

We need not wander more but was I enter with our gift

Our gift of finest gold

Gold that was never bought nor sold

Myrrh to be strewn about his bed

Incense in clouds about his head

All for the child the stirs not in his sleep

But holy slumber holds with a** 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 edge sword

Defend it with the little Lord

For incense smoke of battle red

Myrrh for the honoured happy dead

Gifts for his children terrible and sweet

Touched by such tiny hands and oh such tiny feet