Christians, sing out with ex­ul­ta­tion,
And praise your be­ne­fac­tor’s name!
Today the Au­thor of sal­va­tion,
The Fa­ther’s well be­lov­èd came.
Of un­de­fil­èd vir­gin mo­ther
An in­fant, all di­vine, was born,
And God Him­self be­came your bro­ther
Upon this happy Christ­mas morn.

In Him eter­nal might and pow­er
To hu­man weak­ness hath in­clined;
And this poor Child brings rich­est dow­er
Of gifts and grac­es to man­kind.
While here His ma­jes­ty dis­guis­ing,
A ser­vant’s form the Mas­ter wears,
Behold the beams of glo­ry ris­ing,
E’en from His po­ver­ty and tears.

A sta­ble serves Him for a dwell­ing,
And for a bed a man­ger mean;
Yet o’er His head, His ad­vent tell­ing,
A new and won­drous star is seen.
Angels re­hearse to men the sto­ry,
The joy­ful sto­ry of His birth;
To Him they raise the an­them—Glo­ry
To God on high, and peace on earth!

For through this ho­ly in­car­na­tion
The prim­al curse is done away;
And bless­èd peace o’er all cre­ation
Hath shed its pure and gen­tle ray.
Then, in that hea­ven­ly con­cert join­ing,
O Chris­tian men, with one ac­cord,
Your voic­es tune­ful­ly com­bin­ing,
Salute the birth­day of your Lord!