While to Bethl’hem we are going,
Tell me now, to cheer the road,
Tell me why this lovely Infant
Quitted His divine abode.
From that world to bring to this
Peace, which, of all earthly blisses,
Is the brightest, purest bliss.
Wherefore from His throne exalted
Came He on this earth to dwell;
All His pomp a humble manger,
All His court a narrow cell?
Why did He, the Lord Eternal,
Mortal pilgrim deign to be;
He who fashioned for His glory,
Well, then, let us haste to Bethl’hem;
Thither let us haste and rest;
For, of all Heav’n’s gifts, the sweetest,
Sure, is peace—the sweetest, best.