Praise Ye the Lord, Ye Christians!

Praise ye the Lord

ye Christ­ians!

Yea

praise th’Eter­nal One

Who op­ens Heav’n to us this day

And gives us His own Son.

He comes from His loved Fa­ther’s side

Becomes an in­fant small

And lies with scarce a want sup­plied

Weak in a hum­ble stall.

His pow­er di­vine aside is laid

No crown ad­orns His brow;

The migh­ty God who all things made

Comes as a serv­ant now.

He nes­tles at His mo­ther’s breast

Her pre­cious nurs­ling boy

Whom saints and an­gels call the Blest

And who is all their joy.

He is the Root of Da­vid’s line.

King Da­vid’s Lord and Son

Through whom and by whose grace di­vine

The king­dom must be won.

A won­der­ful ex­change He makes

He puts on flesh and blood

Then gives us back in what He takes

His God­head as our good.

He serves

that I a lord may be.

And gives His life for mine;

How could His love do more for me?

O mys­te­ry di­vine!

Today He op­ens us the door

Of bliss­ful para­dise

The cher­ub threat­ens there no more;

Then let His prais­es rise!