O Lord, our God, in ad­or­ation
We wor­ship You and bend the knee,
With an­gel hosts our praises sing­ing,
With long­ing eyes the Christ to see.

To shep­herds, an­gels tell the sto­ry,
Who run with haste to Beth­l’hem near
That they might see this Child most ho­ly
And spread the word that all might hear.

Of vir­gin mo­ther pure and fa­vored,
The King of kings is born this day.
A hum­ble sta­ble gives Him shel­ter—
His bed, a man­ger filled with hay.

This in­fant So­ver­eign comes as serv­ant—
For to this pur­pose was He sent.
His life and death and re­sur­rect­ion
Are sac­ri­fice and sa­cra­ment.

And so with kings we kneel be­fore Him
To of­fer gifts of frank­in­cense;
With myrrh and gold we make obla­tion—
Each Christ­ian heart on earth re­pents!

Be near us, Lord, when we are wea­ry;
Secure us to Your lov­ing breast
Until You bring us to Your king­dom
Where we shall find eter­nal rest.