By Thy Birth, O Lord of All

By Thy birth

O Lord of all

In a sta­ble’s low­ly stall

Where Thou didst vouch­safe to rest

On a hu­man mo­ther’s breast;

Guard Thy child­ren

Lord

to Thee

Chanting this our li­ta­ny.

By Thy hum­ble bed of straw

Thy obe­di­ence to the law;

By Thy for­ty days of woe

Wrestling with the migh­ty foe;

Guard Thy child­ren

Lord

to Thee

Chanting this our li­ta­ny.

By the hal­lowed wa­ter poured

On Thy sac­red head

O Lord

When Thou Jor­dan’s wave didst bless

And ful­fill all right­eous­ness;

Guard Thy child­ren

Lord

to Thee

Chanting this our li­ta­ny.

By the ang­uish laid on Thee

Kneeling in Geth­se­ma­ne

By Thy cross and pre­cious death

By Thy last ex­pir­ing breath;

Guard Thy child­ren

Lord

to Thee

Chanting this our li­ta­ny.

By the word of par­don blest

To the dy­ing thief ad­dressed

By Thy cold and roc­ky bed

By Thy so­journ ’midst the dead;

Guard Thy child­ren

Lord

to Thee

Chanting this our li­ta­ny.

By Thy re­sur­rect­ion bright

By Thy won­drous heav­en­ly flight

By the throne where Thou dost stand

At Thy Fa­ther’s own right hand;

Guard Thy child­ren

Lord

to Thee

Chanting this our li­ta­ny.