From Heaven Above to Earth I Come

From Heav­en ab­ove to earth I come

To bear good news to ev­ery home;

Glad tid­ings of great joy I bring

Whereof I now will say and sing:

To you this night is born a child

Of Ma­ry

chos­en mo­ther mild;

This lit­tle Child

of low­ly birth

Shall be the joy of all your earth.

’Tis Christ our God

who far on high

Had heard your sad and bit­ter cry;

Himself will your sal­va­tion be

Himself from sin will make you free.

He brings those bless­ings

long ago

Prepared by God for all be­low;

Henceforth His king­dom op­en stands

To you

as to the an­gel bands.

These are the to­kens ye shall mark

The swad­dling clothes and man­ger dark;

There shall ye find the young Child laid

By whom the heav­ens and earth were made.

Now let us all with glad­some cheer

Pursue the shep­herds

and draw near

To see this won­drous gift of God

Who hath His on­ly Son be­stowed.

Give heed

my heart

lift up thine eyes!

Who is it in yon mang­er lies?

Who is this Child so young and fair?

The bless­èd Christ-child li­eth there.

Welcome to earth

Thou no­ble guest

Through whom e’en wick­ed men are blest!

Thou com’st to share our mi­se­ry

What can we ren­der

Lord

to Thee!

Ah

Lord

who hast cre­at­ed all

How hast Thou made Thee weak and small

That Thou must choose Thy in­fant bed

Where ass and ox but late­ly fed!

Were earth a thou­sand times as fair

Beset with gold and jew­els rare

She yet were far too poor to be

A nar­row cra­dle

Lord

for Thee.

For vel­vets soft and silk­en stuff

Thou hast but hay and straw so rough

Whereon Thou King

so rich and great

As ’twere Thy heav­en

art throned in state.

Thus hath it pleased Thee to make plain

The truth to us poor fools and vain

That this world’s hon­or

wealth and might

Are naught and worth­less in Thy sight.

Ah

dear­est Je­sus

ho­ly Child

Make Thee a bed

soft

un­de­filed

Within my heart

that it may be

A qui­et cham­ber kept for Thee.

My heart for ve­ry joy doth leap

My lips no more can si­lence keep

I too must sing with joy­ful tongue

That sweet­est an­cient cra­dle-song—

Glory to God in high­est Heav­en

Who un­to man His Son hath given!

While an­gels sing with pi­ous mirth

A glad New Year to all the earth.