When mo­ther love makes all things bright,
When joy comes with the morn­ing light,
When child­ren ga­ther round their tree,
Thou Christ­mas Babe, we sing of Thee.

When man­hood’s brows are bent in thought
To learn what men of old have taught,
When ea­ger hands seek wis­dom’s key,
Wise Tem­ple Child, we learn of Thee.

When doubts as­sail, and per­ils fright,
When, grop­ing blind­ly in the night,
We strive to read life’s mys­te­ry,
Man of the Mount, we turn to Thee.

When sha­dows of the val­ley fall,
When sin and death the soul ap­pall,
One light we through the dark­ness see—
Christ on the Cross, we cry to Thee.