Thus ear­ly was Christ’s course be­gun:
Thus ra­di­ant dawned ce­les­ti­al day;
And those who such a race would run
As ear­ly should be on their way.

His Fa­ther’s bu­si­ness was His care,
Yet in man’s fa­vor still He grew;
O might we learn by thought and pray­er,
Like Him a work of love to do!

Wisdom and vir­tue still He sought,
Nor ig­no­rant nor vile des­pised:
True was each act­ion, pure each thought,
And each pure hope He real­ized.

The em­pires of this world, in vain,
Offered their scep­ters to His hand;
Fearless He trod the stor­my main,
Fearless ’mid throngs of foes could stand.

Yet with His cour­age and His pow­er
Combined such sweet­ness and such love,
He could re­vere the simp­lest flow­er,
The vil­est sin­ners firm re­prove.

For all mank­ind He came, nor yet
An in­fant’s vi­sit would de­ny;
Nor friend nor mo­ther did for­get
In His last hour of ago­ny.

O child­ren, ask Him to im­part
That spir­it clear and tem­per mild,
Which made the mo­ther in her heart
Keep all the say­ings of her child.

Bless Him who said, of such as you
His Fa­ther’s king­dom is: and still,
His yoke to bear, His work to do,
Study His life to learn His will.