1 From heaven high I come to earth;
I bring good tidings of great mirth;
this mirth is such a wondrous thing
that I must tell you all and sing.
2 A little child for you this morn
has from a chosen maid been born,
a little child so tender, sweet,
that you should skip upon your feet.
3 How glad we'll be that this is so!
With all the shepherds let us go
to see what God for us has done
in sending us his own dear Son.
4 Look, look, my heart, and let me peek.
Whom in the manger do you seek?
Who is that lovely little one?
The baby Jesus, God's own Son.
5 Be welcome, Lord; be now our guest.
By you poor sinners have been blessed.
In nakedness and cold you lie.
How can I thank you; how can I?
6 You wanted so to make me know
that you had let all great things go.
You had a palace in the sky;
you left it there for such as I.
7 And if the world were twice as wide,
with gold and precious jewels inside,
still such a cradle would not do
to hold a babe as great as you.
8 To God who sent his only Son
be glory, laud, and honor done.
Let all the choir of heav'n rejoice,
the new ring in with heart and voice.
Source: Moravian Book of Worship #307