Jesus the Lord Is Born

Jesus the Lord is born

To set His peo­ple free

From Si­nai’s dread­ful storm

And ev­ery mi­se­ry;

From all that hell and sin can do

And take them safe to glo­ry

too.

Whatever guest ap­peared

The pub­lic inn to crowd;

No lodg­ings could be spared

For the in­car­nate Word;

A sta­ble must the birth­place be

Of Him who fills im­men­si­ty.

The sin­ner’s guil­ty heart

For sin pro­vides a home;

Nor with a lust will part

To give the Sav­ior room;

Just like the bust­ling

crowd­ed inn

There’s room for all

ex­cept­ing Him.

For pass­ion

lust and pride

And en­mi­ty to God;

For aught that can de­ride

The Sav­ior’s pre­cious blood

There’s room and en­ter­tain­ment here

But none for Him whom dev­ils fear.

Immortal thanks to Him

Whose match­less

sov­er­eign grace

Breaks down the pow­er of sin

And makes Him­self a place;

He takes pos­ses­sion of the mind

And proves Him­self su­preme­ly kind.