Infant Holy, Infant Lowly

Infant ho­ly

In­fant low­ly

For His bed a cat­tle stall;

Oxen low­ing

lit­tle know­ing

Christ the Babe is Lord of all.

Swift are wing­ing an­gels sing­ing

Noels ring­ing

tid­ings bring­ing:

Christ the Babe is Lord of all.

Flocks were sleep­ing

shep­herds keep­ing

Vigil till the morn­ing new

Saw the glo­ry

heard the sto­ry

Tidings of a Gos­pel true.

Thus re­joic­ing

free from sor­row

Praises voic­ing

greet the mor­row:

Christ the Babe was born for you.