The Crib and the Cross

Where shall the Prince of Peace be born

And where shall the Sav­ior rest?

In a sta­ble bare

in a crib for­lorn:

For the bu­sy inn doth cru­el­ly scorn

Its great and glo­ri­ous guest.

Where shall the Prince of Peace be born

And where shall the Sav­ior rest?

To a ru­ined church

on a Christ­mas morn

To a world by hat­red and war­fare torn

He com­eth the Sav­ior blest.

Where shall the Prince of Peace be born

And where shall the Sav­ior rest?

In the hearts of men that are crowned with thorn

In the hearts of lone­ly wo­men that mourn

In the hearts of the poor op­pressed.

Bare and un­wor­thy this heart of mine

Yet there shall the Sav­ior rest;

For the al­tar lights on the cra­dle shine

And the glo­ry of God fills the ru­ined shrine

Quia Je­sus na­tus est.