Jesu, who from Thy Fa­ther’s throne,
Didst to this vale of tears come down,
In our poor na­ture dressed;
O may the charms of that sweet love
Draw up our souls to Thee above,
And fix them there to rest.

Jesu, whose high and hum­ble birth,
In Heav’n the an­gels, and on earth,
The faith­ful shep­herds sing:
O may our hymns, which here run low,
Shoot up aloft, and fruit­ful grow,
In that eter­nal spring.

Jesu, to whom three kings from far,
Led to Thy cra­dle by a star,
Brought gifts to Thee their king:
O guide us by Thy light that we
May find Thy face, and un­to Thee
Ourselves for trib­ute bring.

Jesu, who thus be­gan our bliss,
Thus car­ried on our hap­pi­ness,
To Thee all praise be paid:
O may the great mys­te­ri­ous Three
For ev­er live, and ev­er be,
Adored, be­loved, ob­eyed.