In the low­ly man­ger, poor and bare,
Lies a lit­tle child,
Sent from heav’n­ly realms of glo­ry fair,
Pure and un­de­filed.
Sent to live with men in low­ly guise,
All our ills to bear,
That at length with Him, ab­ove the skies,
We His crown may wear.

Refrain

Herald angels sing His greet­ing,
Mortal lips the strain re­peat­ing,
While His star, with ra­di­ant splen­dor,
Like a be­acon seems to shine.
Earth and Heav’n, to­day re­joic­ing,
Now unite their prais­es voic­ing,
In a song of glad thanks­giv­ing
For the gift di­vine.

Refrain

All our sin and sor­row He will know,
All our pain and grief,
In our very foot­steps He will go,
Bringing glad re­lief,
Showing us the straight and nar­row way,
That will lead ab­ove,
Bringing us to that bright end­less day,
In His world of love.

Refrain

Blessèd lit­tle Child in man­ger low,
Holy, un­crowned King,
Homage to Thy name we here be­stow,
While Thy prais­es ring,
Heaven’s price­less gift of love Thou art,
Whom the saints ad­ore,
Thou alone shalt rule in ev­ery heart,
Now and ev­er­more.

Refrain