Come, listen to the story
Of Jesu’s birth, of Jesu’s birth;
How Christ, the King of glory,
Came down to earth, came down to earth;
Left Heav’n all pure and holy
To do God’s will, to do God’s will;
Who with the meek and lowly,
Is dwelling still, is dwelling still.
Behold! while earth is sleeping
Amid the snows, amid the snows;
While angels watch are keeping,
There blooms a Rose, there blooms a Rose;
And Mary makes a bower
Within her breast, within her breast;
For that celestial Flower,
Her Savior blest, her Savior blest.
And ere the morn is breaking
Across the world, across the world;
The shepherds, flocks forsaking,
With wonder bold, with wonder bold;
Draw near in adoration
Their praise to pour, their praise to pour;
To offer an oblation
That Babe before, that Babe before.
So runs the Gospel story
Of that sweet morn, of that sweet morn;
Ere found the Rose’s glory
Had tarried the thorn, had tarried the thorn;
And now to Heaven transplanted
Its bliss to share, its bliss to share;
Our God, to us hath granted,
Hereafter there, hereafter there.