She brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7
Would we learn to give thanks, let us turn to the scene
Which the Scripture this morning unfolds to our view;
For whatever at Bethl’hem was painful and mean,
O, believe me, my friends, it was suffered for you.
’Tis the time of the taxing, and crowds flock around;
To the village of Bethl’hem their journey hath been;
But for yon lowly virgin and Child there is found
No home in the village, no room in the inn.
All the oxen are resting at ease, as they fold
Beneath them for comfort each warm covered limb;
But the Child in the stable is pinched with the cold,
More warmth and more comfort are wanted for Him.
’Tis the first of His sorrows: rejected, distressed,
With a manger His cradle, and hay for His bed,
While the herds are in stall, and the birds in their nest,
There’s no home for the Savior, no rest for His head.
In the stable ’tis lone; but rejoicing is nigh;
For e’en now do the lips of the shepherds declare,
How their night-watch was broken with light from on high,
When the song of the angels was sweet in the air;
Glory to God, and good-will upon earth!
In that hymn let believers, with heart and with voice,
Exulting unite, on Immanuel’s birth,
And, like angels at Bethl’hem, be glad and rejoice.
In the stable ’tis dark; but above is the star,
Which hath guided, through rugged and dangerous ways,
The wise and the great from their dwellings afar,
To pay honor and gifts to the Infant of days.
He shall live to redeem; and to Him shall be giv’n
A name that is great. Through His merits alone
Prayer and praise shall ascend, as the incense, to Heav’n;
And all hearts upon earth His dominion shall own.