Lo! He Comes, an Infant Stranger

Lo! He comes

an in­fant strang­er

Of a low­ly mo­ther born;

Swathed and cra­dled in a man­ger

Of His pris­tine glo­ry shorn!

Alleluia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise ye God’s in­car­nate Son.

Lo! He comes

the great Cre­at­or

Calling all the world’s to own

Him the Judge and Lord of na­ture

Seated on His Fa­ther’s throne!

Alleluia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise ye Him the Liv­ing One!

Lo! He comes to man un­friend­ed

Fain with sta­bled beasts to rest;

Shepherds who their night-fold tend­ed

Hailed alone the new­born Guest!

Alleluia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise ye Jes­se’s ten­der rod!

Lo! He comes

around Him pour­ing

All the ar­mies of the sky;

Cherub

ser­aph hosts ador­ing

Swell His state and loud­ly cry

Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise ye Christ the Son of God.

Lo! He comes con­strained to bor­row

Shelter from yon sta­bled shed;

He who shall through years of sor­row

Have not where to lay His head!

Alleluia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise Him

slight­ed by His own!

Lo! He comes

all grief ex­pel­ling

From the hearts that Him re­ceive;

He to each with Him a dwell­ing

In His Fa­ther’s house will give!

Alleluia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise Him on the glo­ry throne!

Man of hu­man flesh par­tak­ing

Offspring of the vir­gin’s womb

Who

the hope­less wan­d’rer seek­ing

Deigned in low­ly guise to come!

Alleluia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise ye the in­car­nate Word

Son of the eter­nal Fa­ther

Who again in power shall come;

Round Him shall the na­tions ga­ther

Finding life

or wait­ing doom!

Alleluia! Al­le­lu­ia! Al­le­lu­ia!

Praise ye Him the liv­ing Word!