How vain was im­pi­ous Her­od’s dread
To see the crown on Je­sus’ head!
His hand no earth­ly good de­nies
Who gives the king­dom of the skies.

The wise men by His star are brought
To Him whom saints and pro­phets sought;
Their of­fer­ings Him their God con­fess,
Their eyes the light eter­nal bless.

O meek and ho­ly Lamb, to Thee
Let men and ang­els bow the knee;
Our race to sanc­ti­fy and save,
Thou dost des­cend to Jor­dan’s wave.

Lo, in her pure and glad­some hour
Cana be­held, O Christ, Thy pow­er!
The wa­ter changed to wine doth show
That Thou art God with us be­low.

Again, O Je­su, let Thy might
Appear in all the hea­then’s sight;
In Thee alone be all our boast,
O Fa­ther, Son, and Ho­ly Ghost!