Come re­joic­ing, prais­es voic­ing,
Christmas Day is break­ing;
Now th’Eter­nal, Lord su­per­nal,
Human form is tak­ing.
On the hay—lo, be­hold
Virgin’s Son, as fore­told,
Lies the pre­cious In­fant in the win­try cold,
Lies the pre­cious In­fant in the win­try cold.

Unabated for Him wait­ed
Many ge­ne­ra­tions;
Him now proud­ly an­gels loud­ly
Praise the Hope of na­tions.
Let us, then, glad­ly sing,
Let our songs gai­ly ring,
As we to this ho­ly Child our prais­es bring,
As we to this ho­ly Child our prais­es bring.

Tender Flow­er, Mighty Tow­er,
Jesus Christ, our Sav­ior;
Heav’nly Trea­sure, with­out mea­sure,
Thee we love for­ev­er.
Lord and King with­out end,
Our poor hearts now be­friend,
All Thy gifts of grace and good­ness to us send,
All Thy gifts of grace and good­ness to us send.