When Jesus left His Father’s throne,
He chose a humble birth;
Like us, unhonored and unknown,
He came to dwell on earth.
Like Him may we be found below,
In wisdom’s path of peace;
Like Him, in grace and knowledge grow,
As years and strength increase.
Jesus passed by the rich and great,
For men of low degree;
He sanctified our parents’ state,
For poor like them was He.
Sweet were His words and kind His look,
When mothers round Him pressed;
Their infants in His arms He took,
And on His bosom blessed.
Safe from the world’s alluring harms,
Beneath His watchful eye,
Thus in the circle of His arms
May we forever lie.
When Jesus into Salem rode,
The children sang around;
For joy they plucked the palms and strewed
Their garments on the ground.
Hosanna our glad voices raise,
Hosanna to our King;
Should we forget our Savior’s praise,
The stones themselves would sing.
For we have learned to love His name;
That name divinely sweet,
May every pulse through life proclaim,
And our last breath repeat.