Little One, You Must Not Fret That I Take Your Clothes Away; Better Sleep You So Will Get, And At Morning Wake More Gay-- Saith The Children'S Mother. You I Must Unclothe Again, For You Need A Better Dress; Too Much Worn Are Body And Brain; You Need Everlastingness-- Saith The Heavenly Father. I Went Down Death'S Lonely Stair; Laid My Garments In The Tomb; Dressed Again One Morning Fair; Hastened Up, And Hied Me Home-- Saith The Elder Brother. Then I Will Not Be Afraid Any Ill Can Come To Me; When 'Tis Time To Go To Bed, I Will Rise And Go With Thee-- Saith The Little Brother.