Of all the wonders and delights, which raise our best surprise,

The glorious themes, the lovely sights, with which we feast our eyes,

There’s none for excellence, and joy, and wonder can compare,

With what at Christmas may employ our serious thoughts and prayer.

If travellers through the darksome night rejoice the day to see;

If prisoners bound in woful plight, are glad when they get free;

If sick and dying men rejoice to see th’ physician’s face,—

Then, sinners, listen, tune your voice, and hail the Saviour’s grace.

From heaven the Son of God descends, and takes the form of man.

To reconcile his foes as friends, was all his gracious plan.

For now the promis’d Saviour’s born, to Israel long foretold,

A lovely babe—the great ones’ scorn—see a rough stable hold!

But though He comes in lowly guise, ’tis David’s Royal Son,

And He that in the manger lies, shall fill his Father’s throne.