In His rude man­ger-bed sleep­ing
See Him, the hea­ven­ly Child,
O’er Him her si­lent watch keep­ing,
Mary the mo­ther, so mild;
Round Him the ze­phyrs are sigh­ing,
O’er Him the bright ha­los shine;
Mother in won­der re­ply­ing,
Baby, O Ba­by di­vine.

Refrain

Mother, the Babe that thou hold­est
Shall for a lost world atone;
Mother, the Son thou en­fold­est
Scepters and king­doms shall own.

Mother, a star now is ris­ing,
Clear on the list­en­ing night;
See how its beau­ty sur­pris­ing,
Makes all the hea­vens so bright;
Mother, it comes and is stand­ing
Over thy poor man­ger-bed;
Wise men the way now are find­ing,
By it they hi­ther are led.

Refrain

See them, their trea­sures out­pour­ing,
Gold, with their in­cense so sweet;
See them, in wor­ship ador­ing,
Low at the lit­tle One’s feet;
Mother, so poor and so low­ly,
Take the glad gifts that we bring;
He is the bless­èd and ho­ly,
He is the Sav­ior and King.

Refrain