Zion Is Glad This Glorious Morn

Zion is glad this glo­ri­ous morn:

A babe in Beth­le­hem is born.

See where He lies in man­ger low

Whose king­ly reign no end shall know.

The ox and ass that filled the stall

Knew that the Babe was Lord of all.

Out from the east the sag­es bring

Their treasur­es for an of­fer­ing.

They hum­bly seek the low­ly place

And wor­ship there the King of grace:

The Son of God

who made the earth

A vir­gin mother gave Him birth.

No poi­son from the ser­pent stains

The hu­man blood that fills His veins;

And though our flesh He meek­ly wears

No mark of sin His na­ture bears;

That He might man to God re­store

And give the grace that once he wore.

Come

while our hearts are full of mirth

And bless the Lord of low­ly birth.