Come, behold the Virgin mother fondly leaning o’er her Child;

Nature shows not such another, glorious, meek, and mild!

’Tis the Saviour! Heaven upon his birth-day smil’d.

Bethlehem’s ancient walls enclose Him, dwelling-place of David once;

Now no friendly homestead knows Him, tho’ the noblest of his sons:

See the Saviour, shelt’ring ’mid the scatt’red stones!

Royal Bethlehem, how deserted, all its pomp and splendour lost!

Is a stable, vile and dirtied, all the welcome you can boast?

Must the Saviour thus be spurn’d by every host?