Praise ye the Lord, ye Christians!
Yea, praise th’Eternal One,
Who opens Heav’n to us this day,
And gives us His own Son.

He comes from His loved Fa­ther’s side,
Becomes an infant small,
And lies with scarce a want supplied,
Weak in a humble stall.

His power divine aside is laid,
No crown adorns His brow;
The mighty God who all things made
Comes as a servant now.

He nestles at His mother’s breast,
Her precious nursling boy,
Whom saints and angels call the Blest,
And who is all their joy.

He is the Root of David’s line.
King David’s Lord and Son,
Through whom and by whose grace divine
The kingdom must be won.

A wonderful exchange He makes,
He puts on flesh and blood,
Then gives us back in what He takes,
His Godhead as our good.

He serves, that I a lord may be.
And gives His life for mine;
How could His love do more for me?
O mystery divine!

Today He opens us the door
Of blissful paradise,
The cherub threatens there no more;
Then let His praises rise!