Let sigh­ing cease and woe
God from on high hath heard,
Heaven’s gate is op­en­ing wide, and lo!
The long ex­pect­ed Word.

Peace—through the deep of night
The hea­ven­ly choir breaks forth,
Singing with fes­tal songs and bright,
Our God and Sav­ior’s birth.

The cave of Beth­le­hem
Those wake­ful shep­herds seek;
Let us, too, rise and greet with them
That In­fant pure and meek.

We en­ter—at the door
What mar­vel meets the eye?
A crib, a mo­ther pale and poor,
A child of po­ver­ty.

Art Thou the eter­nal Son,
The eter­nal Fa­ther’s ray?
Whose lit­tle hand, Thou infant one,
Doth lift the world al­way?

Yea—faith through that dim cloud,
Like lightn­ing darts be­fore,
And greets Thee, at whose foot­stool bowed
Heaven’s trem­bling hosts adore.

Our Mas­ter—si­lent yet,
Thou teache­st from Thy chair;
Shun that on which thy flesh is set;
What flesh ab­hor­reth—bear.

Chaste be our love like Thine,
Our swell­ing souls bring low,
And in our hearts, O Babe di­vine
Be born, abide and grow.

So shall Thy birth­day morn,
Lord Christ, our birth­day be,
Then greet we all, our­selves new­born,
Our King’s na­ti­vi­ty.

Born at a vir­gin’s beast,
Jesu, be praise to Thee,
With Sire and Ho­ly Spi­rit blest,
Through all eter­ni­ty.