Fly Abroad, and Tell the Story

Fly abroad

and tell the sto­ry

Of the migh­ty Sav­ior’s birth;

Say ye

that the Lord of glo­ry

Leaves His throne and comes to earth.

He

be­fore whom an­gels bow

Takes the form of man be­low.

Hither come

and view the Strang­er

View the In­fant late­ly born;

See

He lives in yon­der man­ger

By the world cast out in scorn.

Mark Him well

for this is He

Born to set His peo­ple free.

Wonder not that thus ye see Him

Lying in this hum­ble place:

Nor in­dulge a wish to free Him

From a state so low and base.

Worldly pomp the Sav­ior scorns:

Him no out­ward state ad­orns.

Sing

ye saints

the Sav­ior’s prais­es:

’Twas for you He suf­fered shame;

Yes

He stooped that He might raise us

To the place from whence He came.

Though He now ap­pears so low

Crowns shall soon ad­orn His brow.

Learn from His ob­scure con­di­tion

How to think of all be­low;

Scorn He meets

and op­po­si­tion:

Jesus finds in man His foe.

Such our mas­ter was

and we

Must ex­pect like Him to be.