Come child­ren, with sing­ing,
With sweet voic­es ring­ing,
Come kneel to the Babe that in Beth­le­hem lies,
While an­gels achoir, with pin­ions of fire,
Are fill­ing with mu­sic the list­en­ing skies.

Repeat the dear sto­ry
How, veil­ing His glo­ry,
The Hope of the Ag­es came down to the earth,
Oh, wor­ship Him low­ly, the lof­ty and ho­ly
Our star of the morn­ing shone out at His birth.

See Ma­ry enfold Him,
While shep­herds be­hold Him.
And sag­es are bent at His beau­ti­ful feet.
Come, haste to adore Him, and, bow­ing be­fore Him,
The Lord who re­deems you in re­ver­ence greet.

This won­der­ful stran­ger,
His couch is a man­ger,
His cra­dle is made with the cat­tle in stall;
Yet God of cre­ation in blest in­car­na­tion,
He stoops to our na­ture to ran­som us all.