The Child, the pro­mised Child, is born!
Glad tid­ings to a world for­lorn!
Celestial choirs in bright ar­ray
Descend to hail His na­tal day.

Oh, come and see the won­drous thing
Whereof the Christ­mas an­gels sing—
The bless­èd Babe in Ma­ry’s arms,
With all a babe’s en­dear­ing charms.

In uni­ma­gined splen­dors far
Beyond re­mot­est sun or star
His throne up­lifts, yet here He lies
In Beth­le­hem’s stall, in mean dis­guise.

Angelic hosts that press un­seen,
The ques­tion­ing kine with in­stinct keen,
The won­der­ing shep­herds, all adore
The mys­te­ry fore­told of yore.

Here is the vir­gin un­de­filed;
Here Is­ra­el’s Ho­ly One, the Child,
Emmanuel, whom cen­tu­ries
Have watched for with pro­phet­ic eyes.

His Name is Won­der­ful, we read,
The Coun­sel­or in all our need,
The Migh­ty God, the Fa­ther great,
Created things to re-cre­ate.

And more, if more were pos­si­ble,
The Prince of Peace His work shall tell
Who comes to con­quer ev­ery foe
That hu­man soul can ev­er know.

Yea, more—the name that Ga­bri­el gave—
He comes as Jes­us, strong to save;
The match­less depth, the match­less height
Of love re­vealed to mor­tal sight.

O wea­ry one, whate’er thy name,
O pe­ni­tent, what­e’er thy shame,
O ar­dent soul, O mourn­er sad,
O youth, O child­hood, strong and glad,

Art thou of high or low de­gree,
He comes, this bless­èd Babe, to thee;
Receive Him, press Him to thy heart,
And in this cold world take His part!

In this cold world that doth but play,
Alas, at keep­ing Christ­mas Day!
Receive Him, press Him to thy heart,
And He in turn will take thy part!

In His un­earth­ly king­dom share;
His laws obey; His sig­net wear;
His liv­ing pre­sence taste, and see
How gra­cious Christ the Lord can be!

Henceforth temp­ta­tion’s ar­rows sore
May wound but poi­son thee no more;
Nor griefs o’er­whelm, nor faith grow dim,
Because thy heart en­shrin­eth Him!