O Jesus Christ, Thy Manger Is

O Je­sus Christ

Thy man­ger is

My para­dise at which my soul re­clin­eth.

For there

O Lord

doth lie the Word

Made flesh for us;

Herein Thy grace forth­shin­eth.

He whom the sea and wind ob­ey

Doth come to serve the sin­ner in great meek­ness.

Thou

God’s own Son

with us art one

Dost join us and our child­ren in our weak­ness.

Thy light and grace our guilt ef­face

Thy heav­en­ly rich­es all our loss re­triev­ing.

Immanuel

Thy birth doth quell

The pow­er of hell and Sa­tan’s bold de­ceiv­ing.

Thou Christ­ian heart

whoe’er thou art

Be of good cheer and let no sor­row move thee!

For God’s own Child

in mer­cy mild

Joins thee to Him—

How great­ly God must love thee!

Remember thou what glo­ry now

The Lord pre­pared thee for all earth­ly sad­ness.

The an­gel host can nev­er boast

Of great­er glo­ry

great­er bliss or glad­ness.

The world may hold her wealth and gold;

But thou

my heart

Keep Christ as thy true trea­sure.

To Him hold fast un­til at last

A crown be thine and hon­or in full mea­sure.