Author: Catherine Winkworth, 1827-1878; M. Luther Appears in 146 hymnals Topics: Advent and Christmas Lyrics: 1 From heaven above to earth I come
To bear good news to every home;
Glad tidings of great joy I bring,
Whereof I now will say and sing:
2 To you this night is born a child
Of Mary, chosen virgin mild;
This little child of lowly birth
Shall be the joy of all the earth.
3 This is the Christ our God and Lord,
Who in all need will aid afford;
He will Himself your Saviour be,
From all your sins to set you free.
4 To you the blessedness He bears,
Which God the Father's love prepares,
That in His heavenly Kingdom blest,
You may with us forever rest.
5 These are the tokens ye shall mark:
The swaddling clothes and manger dark;
There ye shall find the infant laid,
By whom the heavens and earth were made.
6 Then 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!
What is it in yon manger lies!
Who is this child, so young and fair!
Dear little Jesus lieth there.
8 Welcome to earth, Thou noble Guest,
Through whom the sinful world is blest!
In my distress Thou comest to me;
What thanks shall I return to Thee?
9 A, Lord, who hast created all,
How hast Thou made Thee weak and small,
That Thou must lie on coarse dry grass,
The food of humble ox and ass!
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't were thy heaven, art throned in state.
12 And thus, dear Lord, it pleaseth Thee
To make this truth quite plain to me,
That all the world's honor, wealth and might
Are nought and worthless in Thy sight.
13 O, 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 sing with joyful tongue
That sweetest ancient cradle-song:
15 Glory to God in highest heaven,
Who unto man His Son hath given!
For this His hosts, on joyful wing,
A blest New Year of mercy sing.
From heaven above to earth I come
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