God’s Dear Son Without Beginning

God’s dear Son with­out be­gin­ning

Whom the Jews of old did scorn

The On­ly Wise with­out all sin­ning

On this bless­èd day was born;

To save us all from sin and thrall

When we in Sa­tan’s chains were bound

And shed His blood to do us good

With ma­ny a pur­ple bleed­ing wound.

Bethlehem

King Da­vid’s ci­ty

Was His birth­place

as we find

Who God and man en­dued with pi­ty

Was the Sav­ior of man­kind;

Yet Jew­ry land with cru­el hand

Both first and last His pow­er en­vied;

When He was born

they did Him scorn

And showed Him mal­ice when He died.

Princely pal­ace for our Sav­ior

In Ju­dea was not found

But bless­èd Ma­ry’s meek be­hav­ior

Patiently up­on the ground

Her babe did place in vile dis­grace

Where ox­en in their stalls did feed;

No mid­wife mild had this sweet Child

No wo­man’s help at mo­ther’s need.

Kingly robes nor gold­en trea­sure

Decked the birth­day of God’s Son;

No pom­pous train at all took plea­sure

To this King of kings to run;

No man­tle brave could Je­sus have

Upon His cra­dle for to lie;

Nor mu­sic’s charms in nurse’s arms

To sing the babe a lul­la­by.

Yet as Ma­ry sat in sol­ace

By our Sav­ior’s first be­gin­ning

The host of an­gels from God’s pal­ace

Sounded sweet from Heav­en sing­ing;

Yea

Heav’n and earth for Je­sus’ birth

With sweet me­lo­di­ous tunes abound

And ev­ery­thing for Jew­ry’s king

Upon the earth gave cheer­ful sound.

Now to Him that hath re­deemed us

By His death on Ho­ly Rood

And though poor sin­ners so es­teemed us

That He bought us with His blood

Yield last­ing fame

that still the name

Of Je­sus may be hon­ored here;

And let us say that Christ­mas Day

Is still the best day of the year.