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All praise to thee, eternal Lord,
clothed in a garb of flesh and blood;
choosing a manger for thy throne,
while worlds on worlds are thine alone.
Once did the skies before thee bow;
a virgin's arms contain thee now;
angels who did in thee rejoice
now listen for thine infant voice.
A little Child, thou art our guest,
that weary ones in thee may rest;
forlorn and lowly is thy birth,
that we may rise to heaven from earth.
Thou comest in the darksome night
to make us children of the light,
to make us, in the realms divine,
like thine own angels round thee shine.
All this for us thy love hath done;
by this to thee our love is won:
for this we tune our cheerful lays,
and shout our thanks in ceaseless praise.
(1715-1769), trans. (1858)
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