Two Songs for Voice and Woodwind Quintet

Sister awake! Close not your eyes,
  The day her light discloses,
And the bright morning doth arise,
  Out of her bed of roses.

See the clear sun, the world's bright eye,
  In at our window peeping;
Lo! how he blusheth to espy
  Us idle wenches, sleeping!

Therefore awake! make Haste, I say,
  And let us, without staying,
All in our gowns of green so gay
  Into the park a-maying!

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and [bid]1 thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is callèd by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild:
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are callèd by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!