On a day when men were count­ed,
God be­came the Son of Man,
That His name in ev­ery cen­sus
Should be en­tered was His plan.
God, the Lord of all cre­ation,
Humbly takes a crea­ture’s place;
He whose form no man has wit­nessed
Has to­day a hu­man face.

On a night, while si­lent shep­herds
Watched their flocks up­on the plain,
Came a mes­sage with its sum­mons
Brought by song of an­gel train:
Lo, in Beth­lehem’s lit­tle vil­lage
Has ar­rived the shep­herd King,
And each shep­herd to his mas­ter
Must his sheep as of­fer­ing bring.

When there shone the star of Da­vid
In the span­gled east­ern sky,
Kings ar­rived to pay their hom­age
To the Christ, the Lord most high.
Yet not all, for lo, there sound­eth
Through the streets a fear­ful cry;
For a king who will not wor­ship
Has de­creed that Christ must die.

Yet it’s Christ­mas, and we greet Him,
Coming ev­en now to save;
For the Lord of our sal­va­tion
Was not cap­tive to the grave.
Out of Egypt came the Sav­ior,
Man’s Im­ma­nu­el to be—
Christmas shines with East­er glo­ry,
Glory of eter­ni­ty.