We sing to Thee, Immanuel,
The Prince of Life, sal­va­tion’s well,
The Plant of Hea­ven, the Star of Morn,
The Lord of Lords, the virgin born.

All glo­ry, worship, thanks and praise,
That Thou art come in these our days;
Thou heavenly Guest expected long,
We hail Thee with a joyful song.

For Thee, since first the world was made,
Men’s hearts have waited, watched and prayed;
Prophets and patriarchs, year by year,
Have longed to see Thy light appear.

O God—they prayed—from Sion rise,
And hear Thy captive people’s cries;
At length, O Lord, sal­va­tion bring,
Then Jacob shall rejoice and sing.

Now Thou, by whom the world was made,
Art in Thy manger-cradle laid;
Maker of all things, great, art small,
Naked Thy­self, though clothing all.

Thou, who both Hea­ven and earth dost sway,
In strangers’ inn art fain to stay;
And though Thy power makes angels blest,
Dost seek Thy food from human breast.

Encouraged thus, our love grows bold
On Thee to lay our steadfast hold;
The cross which Thou didst undergo
Has vanquished death and healed our woe.

Thou art our head—then Lord, of Thee
True, living members we will be;
And, in the strength Thy grace shall give,
Will live as Thou wouldst have us live.

As each short year goes quickly round,
Our alleluias shall resound;
And when we reckon years no more,
May we in Hea­ven Thy name adore.