A Babe is born, all of a maid,
To bring sal­va­tion un­to us;
No more are we to sing afraid,
Veni Cre­at­or Spir­it­us.

At Beth­le­hem, that bless­èd place,
The Child of bliss then born He was;
Him aye to serve, God give us grace,
O Lux be­ata Tri­ni­tas.

There came three kings out of the East,
To wor­ship there that King so free;
With gold and myrrh and frank­in­cense,
A so­lis or­tus car­di­ne.

The shep­herds heard an an­gel cry,
A mer­ry song that night sang he,
Why are ye all so sore aghast?
Iam lu­cis or­to si­de­re.

The an­gel came down with a cry,
A fair and joy­ful song sang he,
All in the wor­ship of that Child,
Gloria Ti­bi Do­mi­ne.