Oh, carry her safe to Bethlehem,
Little Grey Donkey, tonight.
A miracle rests on your small feet,
Little Grey Donkey, tonight.
Say, I'll bet you didn't know that way,
way back,
Clear back to the end
of the sixth day of creation,
the Lord was mighty tired
after all that work
of making the sun, the moon,
the stars,
and the earth.
What's more, on top of all that,
He'd made Mr. Adam an d Mrs. Eve,
plus elephants, rabbits,
lightning bugs, polar bears,
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lots of other walking, flying,
creeping creatures too numerous to even mention.
Anyway, the Lord had
surely earned
His seventh day of rest,
But as he turned to go,
a sudden thought made him stop.
He studded on it for a moment,
and then he picked up another
little piece of clay.
After shaping it to his liking,
he reached up on a shelf
and took a pinch of courage,
a dab of humility,
six grains of faithfulness,
a dash of ugly peals,
and a good big handful of
solemn wisdom.
Putting all this into the
little animal he had fashioned
for a very special time he knew would come,
the Lord gave it a pat
and sent it down to earth.
And then upon
a winter's day
and in the long ago,
the dusty road to Bethlehem
was trod by many feet,
and in that throng a donkey walked,
a donkey small and gray,
as donkeys plod their donkey days
in cold or rain or heat.
No hand reached out to touch him
as he went his donkey way,
no scribe set down his donkey name
for men unborn to say,
no eye could see a radiance
about this lowly one
who plodded and on to Bethlehem
with Mary and God's Son.
O carry her safe to Bethlehem,
little grey donkey, tonight.
A miracle rests on your small feet,
little grey donkey, tonight.
For heaven is watch
ing your mission di vine,
And over a stable a star waits to shine,
While shepherds and wise men
go look for the sign.
Little grey donkey, do not.
A king will come, the prophets cried,
As kings have come of yore,
On noble steed with golden crown
and silver trumpet call.
But on that silent holy night,
there was no pomp nor pride
in Bethlehem.
The child king came to Bethlehem
upon a donkey small,
a donkey old and tired and gray
with long and drooping ears,
and no one dreamed
he brought our world a light of after years,
a donkey plodding through the dust
to see God's will was done,
and bearing on his ragged
the Virgin and God's Son.
Oh, carry her safe to Bethlehem,
Little Grey Donkey, tonight.
A miracle rests on your small feet,
Little Grey Donkey, tonight.
All heaven is watching your patiently lie,
And over the stable a star waits
to shine.
While shepherds and wise men
all look for the sign,
Little Grey Donkey, rest little donkey,
Cause little donkey to pound.