Low in a manger, dear little Stranger,
Jesus, the wonderful Savior, was born.
There was none to receive Him, none to believe Him,
None but the angels were watching that morn.
Dear little Stranger, slept in a manger,
No downy pillow under His head;
But with the poor He slumbered secure,
The dear little Babe in His bed.
Angels descending, over Him bending,
Chanted a tender and silent refrain;
Then a wonderful story told of His glory,
Unto the shepherds on Bethlehem’s plain.
Dear little Stranger, born in a manger,
Maker and Monarch, and Savior of all;
I will love You forever! Grieve You? No, never!
You did for me make Your bed in a stall.