To you this night is born a child
Of Mary, chosen virgin mild
This little child of lowly birth
Shall be the joy of all the earth
These are the signs that you shall mark:
The swaddling clothes and manger dark
There you will find the infant laid
By whom the heav'ns and earth were made
Come here, my friends, lift up your eyes
And see what in the manger lies
Who is this child, so young and fair?
It is the Christ Child lying there
Ah, Lord, though you created all
How weak You are, so poor and small
That You should choose to lay Your head
Where lowly cattle lately fed!
Were earth a thousand times as fair
And set with gold and jewels rare
It would be far too poor and small
A cradle for the Lord of all
My heart for very joy must leap
My lips no more can silence keep
I, too, must sing with joyful tongue
That sweetest ancient cradlesong:
Glory to God in highest heav'n
Who unto us His Son has giv'n!
While angels sing with pious mirth
A glad new year to all the earth
("From Heaven Above to Earth I Come," v. 2, 5, 7, 9, 10, 14, 15)
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