The shep­herds had an an­gel,
The wise men had a star,
But what have I, a lit­tle child,
To guide me home from far
Where glad stars sing to­ge­ther,
And sing­ing an­gels are?

Lord Je­sus is my guard­ian,
So I can no­thing lack;
The lambs lie in His bo­som
Along life’s dan­ger­ous track:
The will­ful lambs that go as­tray
He, bleed­ing, brings them back.

Those shep­herds, through the lone­ly night,
Sat watch­ing by their sheep,
Until they saw the heavenly host
Who nei­ther tire nor sleep,
All sing­ing Glo­ry, glo­ry,
In fes­tiv­al they keep.

Christ watch­es me, His lit­tle lamb,
Cares for me day and night,
That I may be His own in Hea­ven:
So an­gels clad in white
Shall sing their Glo­ry, glo­ry,
For my sake in the height.

Lord, bring me near­er day by day,
Till I my voice unite,
And sing my Glo­ry, glo­ry
With an­gels clad in white.
All glo­ry, glo­ry, giv’n to Thee,
Thro’ all the heav’n­ly height.