There’s a manger-Babe in a far off land,
But it holds the world in its infant hand;
Just a manger-Babe in its humble bed,
But a matchless crown is upon its head.
O manger-Babe, Thy lowly rest
More royal is than princely bed;
Best of earth’s diadems would be
Only as dross on Thy kingly head.
Just a manger-Babe, but it is the worth
Of the Father’s love to the sons of earth;
’Tis a King that sleeps in the lowly stall,
’Tis the King of kings! ’tis the Lord of all.
’Tis the manger-Babe, ’tis the manger-King,
Unto Him all hail! unto Him we sing;
O the glad and joyful hosannas swell,
For the manger-King is Immanuel!