The Lord is come! On Syr­ian soil,
The child of po­ver­ty and toil;
The Man of Sor­rows, born to know
Each va­ry­ing shade of hu­man woe:
His joy, His glo­ry, to ful­fill,
In earth and Heav’n, His Fa­ther’s will;
On lone­ly mount, by fes­tive board,
On bit­ter cross, des­pised, ad­ored.

The Lord is come! In Him we trace
The full­ness of God’s truth and grace;
Throughout those words and acts di­vine
Gleams of th’eter­nal splen­dor shine;
And from His in­most Spir­it flow,
As from a height of sun­lit snow,
The ri­vers of pe­ren­ni­al life,
To heal and sweet­en na­ture’s strife.

The Lord is come! In ev­ery heart
Where truth and mer­cy claim apart;
In ev­ery land where right is might,
And deeds of dark­ness shun the light;
In ev­ery church where faith and love
Lift earth­ward thoughts to things above;
In ev­ery ho­ly, hap­py home,
We bless Thee, Lord, that Thou hast come.