Once in Beth­lehem of Ju­dah,
Far away across the sea,
There was laid a lit­tle ba­by
On a vir­gin mo­ther’s knee.

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O Sav­ior, gen­tle Sav­ior,
Hear Thy lov­ing child­ren sing,
The God of our sal­va­tion,
The child that is a king.

It was not a state­ly pa­lace
Where that lit­tle Ba­by lay,
With His ser­vants to at­tend Him,
And with guards to keep the way.

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But the ox­en stood around Him,
In a sta­ble low and dim;
In the world He had cre­at­ed
There was not a room for Him.

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For He left His Fa­ther’s glo­ry,
And the gold­en halls above,
And He took our hu­man na­ture,
In the great­ness of His love.

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Of His in­fi­nite com­pas­sion,
He can feel our want and woe;
For He suf­fered, He was tempt­ed,
When He lived our life be­low.

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Still His child­hood’s bright ex­am­ple
Gives a light to our poor homes;
From the blood of His aton­ing
Still our hope of par­don comes.

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Still He stands and pleads in Hea­ven,
For us, weak and sin-de­filed;
God, who is a man for ev­er,
Jesus, who was once a child.

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