- |
User Links
My Starred Hymns
My FlexScores
My Hymnals
My Purchased FilesHymn Text Comparison
< Back to authority page
| Choose a text to compare against: | Compare to:These texts are sorted by similarity. Texts in green are more similar to the current text, and red ones are more different. |
| 1 From yonder world I come to earth, To tell you of a Savior’s birth; Let now the glad hosannahs ring— Good news to fallen man I bring! 2 To you this day is born a child, Son of a virgin undefiled; A little babe—a gracious sight— He’ll be your wonder and delight. 3 ’Tis Jesus Christ, the heav’nly King! Who doth for all a ransom bring: He will Himself the Savior be— From all your sins He’ll set you free. 4 He brings salvation from above, Which God for you prepared in love; That you with us beyond the sky May live in bliss, enthroned on high! 5 Then mark you now the signs aright— The crib, the swaddling mean and light; The little Babe you there shall find, Received and hailed by all mankind. 6 Oh! let us all be glad today, And with the shepherds homage pay: Come, see what God to us hath giv’n, His only Son, sent down from Heav’n. 7 Awake, my soul! from sadness rise, Come, see what in the manger lies: Who is this smiling infant Child? ’Tis little Jesus, sweet and mild. 8 Twice welcome, oh! Thou heavenly Guest, To save a world with sin distressed; Com’st Thou in lowly guise for me? What homage shall I give to Thee! 9 Ah! Lord, eternal heav’nly King, Hast Thou become so mean a thing; And hast Thou left Thy blissful seat, To rest where colts and oxen eat? 10 Were this wide world much wider made, With gold and costly gems arrayed; E’en then, by far too mean ’twould be, To make a little crib for Thee. 11 No silken robes surround Thy head— A bunch of hay is all Thy bed! Where Thou, a king, so rich and great, Art bright as in Thy heav’nly state. 12 All this, my Lord, has come to Thee, That Thou might’st show Thy truth to me: Thou, who hast made the earth and sky, Hast deigned, a helpless babe, to lie. 13 Jesus, my Savior, come to me— Make here a little crib for Thee; A bed make in this heart of mine, That I may aye remember Thine. 14 Then, from my soul glad songs shall ring— Of Thee each day I’ll gaily sing: The glad hosannahs will I raise From heart that loves to sing Thy praise! 15 Praise God, ye seraphs round the throne— Praise ye the Father and the Son; God’s angel doth to us appear— Then let us hail the glad New Year. | The Cyber Hymnal #13173 |
Suggestions or corrections? Contact us
