“I come from th’lof­ty heav’ns to­day;
I bring a new me­lo­di­ous lay;
A rich me­lo­di­ous lay I bring,
And this the tale I tell, I sing:

“Lo! from a chos­en maid this morn,
A love­ly babe for you is born;
That Babe, so soft, so mild, shall be
Your joy, your sweet fe­li­ci­ty.

“He is the Lord, our God on high!
His boun­ty shall your need sup­ply,
His own heart’s blood your ran­som pay,
And wash each stain of guilt away.

“He brings you all the bliss pro­found
His Fa­ther, God, dif­fus­es round,
That with us now and ev­er­more,
Ye may the realms of light ex­plore.

“How mark the sign with fond de­sire,
The man­ger and the mean at­tire;
Lo! there you find the In­fant lain,
Whose hands the uni­verse sus­tain.

Come all, and let us joy­ful be;
Come with the shep­herds in and see
What God’s un­bound­ed love has done,
To bless us with His own dear Son.

Attend, my heart! be­hold yon shed!
Who fills that rude, that low­ly bed?
What babe is that, so sweet, so fair?
Jesus, the love­ly Babe, is there!

Welcome, il­lus­tri­ous Guest sub­lime!
Thou hast not scorned a world of crime,
But come in ban­ish­ment to me:
How shall I pay my thanks to Thee?

Alas! Cre­at­or, Lord of all!
Art Thou the in­mate of a stall?
And hast Thou lain Thy love­ly head
Where me­ni­al beasts are night­ly fed?

Had this wide world far wid­er bounds,
Of gems and gold a rich com­pound,
It were too poor, too small to be,
A nar­row cra­dle bed for Thee.

The swath­ing-band, the bri­ary hay,
Thy pur­ple these, Thy silk ar­ray;
On these, great Mon­arch! Thou canst shine,
Rich as up­on Thy throne di­vine.

Thus wouldst Thou teach my soul to see
This worth­less world’s re­al­ity;
How pow­er and fame, and for­tune’s store,
Beneath Thy splen­dor shine no more.

O Je­sus! love­ly Babe di­vine!
Thy cra­dle be this heart of mine;
There make a pure, soft shrine for Thee,
That I may ne’er for­get­ful be.

That glad­ness may for­ev­er string
My chain­less soul to leap and sing,
The lus­cious tones with bliss that brim,
The charm­ing songs of Su­san­nim.

Glory and praise to God su­preme!
Glad hosts of an­gels seize the theme;
With joy they peal the an­them new!
He gave His own dear Son for you!