ser

Thy lit-tle ones, dear Lord, are we, And come Thy low-ly

bed to see;

En - light-en ev-ery soul and mind, That we the way to Thee may

2 E’er since the world began to be,
How many a heart hath longed for Thee!
And Thou, O long-expected Guest,

Hast come at last to make us blest!
3 Now art Thou here; we know Thee now;

In lowly manger liest Thou:
A child, yet makest all things great;

Poor,yet is earth Thy robe of state.
4 Now fearless I can look on Thee:
From sin and grief Thou set'st me free:
Thou bearest wrath, Thou conquerest death,

Fear turns to joy Thy glance beneath.
5 Thou art my Head, my Lord divine:

I am Thy member, wholly Thine;
And in Thy Spirit's strength would still

Serve Thee according to Thy will.
6 Thus will I sing Thy praises here,

With joyful spirit year by year:
And when we reckon years no more,
May I in heaven Thy name adore.

P. Gerhardt, 1653

2 To you this night is born a child
Of Mary, chosen mother mild;
This little child, of lowly birth,
Shall be the joy of all the earth.
3 'Tis Christ, our God, who far on high
Hath heard your sad and bitter cry;
Himself will your salvation be,

Himself from sin will make you free.
4 He brings those blessings, long ago

Prepared by God for all below;
Henceforth His kingdom open stands

To you, as to the angel bands.
5 These are the tokens ye shall mark,

The swaddling clothes and manger dark;
There shall ye find the young child laid,

By whom the heavens and earth were made.
6 Now let us all with gladsome cheer

Follow the shepherds, and draw near
To see this wondrous gift of God,
Who hath His only Son bestowed.
7 Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes!
Who is it in yon manger lies?
Who is this child so young and fair?

The blessed Christ-child lieth there.
8 Welcome to earth, Thou noble Guest,

Through whom the sinful world is blest!
Thou com'st to share our misery,
What can we render, Lord, to Thee!
9 Ah, Lord, who hast created all,
How hast Thou made Thee weak and small,
That Thou must choose Thine infant bed
Where ass and ox but lately fed!

10 Were earth a thousand times as fair,

Beset with gold and jewels rare,
She yet were far too poor to be

A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee.
11 For velvets soft and silken stuff

Thou hast but hay and straw so rough,
Whereon Thou, King, so rich and great,

As 'twere Thy heaven, art throned in state.
12 Thus hath it pleased Thee to make plain

The truth to sinners poor and vain,
That this world's honor, wealth and might

Are naught and worthless in Thy sight.
13 Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child,

Make Thee a bed, soft undefiled,
Within my heart, that it may be

A quiet chamber kept for Thee.
14 My heart for very joy doth leap,

My lips no more can silence keep;
I, too, must raise with joyous tongue

That sweetest ancient cradle song:
15 Glory to God in highest heaven,

Who unto man His Son hath given!-
While angels sing with pious mirth
A glad New Year to all the earth.

M. Luther, 1535