Christus! An­oint­ed One! King at Thy birth!
We drape Thy ho­ly name with signs of mirth:
Bringing bright hol­ly and weird mis­tle­toe,
With twin­ing ivy joy and glad­ness show.

Sing to Je­ho­vah’s name, blend­ed in One,
Infinite God, the Fa­ther, Spir­it, Son;
Better than an­gels hath Je­sus the Way
Gained far more exc­el­lent a name than they.

Myth, fa­bles spoke of all na­tions’ De­sire,
Through lutes of peace, and by Prome­thi­an fire;
But then Isai­ah saw vi­sion sub­lime
And preached the full­ness of the pro­mised time.

Hearken, O na­tions, and list­en, O land,
For you a Prince, De­liv’rer, is at hand,
Whose gen­tle gov­ern­ment shall e’er in­crease,
A reign of right­eous­ness and love, and peace!

No long­er de­so­late des­erts are waste;
Fields wait for har­vest, O you reap­ers, haste!
Wilderness blos­som­ing, yes, as the rose,
And cleans­ing, spark­ling springs in­vite re­pose.

Heav’n’s rul­er now our guest, greet Him, O earth!
Jesus, the ho­ly Child of pur­est birth!
Son of a vir­gin, yet mon­arch most high—
Hosanna to the King, ex­ult­ing cry!

Rejoice, O mo­ther, most bless­èd thou art,
Among all wo­men’s names thine dwells apart;
Yes, mag­ni­fy Him, thy Sav­ior and Son,
Whose rule, ex­pect­ed long, at last be­gun!

Wake psal­te­ry and harp! Sound cym­bal, lyre!
This na­tal day of Him whom hearts de­sire;
Blow ye the trum­pets, com­mand to the feast,
Of Christ Im­ma­nu­el, our king, high priest!