1 O Savior dear,
Thy manger drear
I fain would call a paradise of glory.
Here Thou, O Lord,
Incarnate Word,
Dost lie as prophets told in sacred story.
2 The wind and sea
Are calmed by Thee,
Thou art enthroned as King in highest heaven;
And yet Thy dress
Is lowliness,
Thou as an infant small to us art given.
3 O God of love,
To heav'n above
Upon Thy throne our weakness Thou hast lifted;
Thine only Son
Is now as one
With us, who had like passing vapor drifted.
4 What though our foe
Would bring us low?
His deadly anger can no more appall us.
Though Adam's fall
Has tainted all,
Thy saving grace to glory doth recall us.
5 Thou prince of hell,
Thy plans so fell
Do not avail thee for our condemnation;
Thy vaunted gain
Is all in vain,
For Jesus is the Fount of our salvation.
6 The highest Good,
Our flesh and blood,
Is Lord of all and governs every nation;
It cannot be
That ever He
Should let us suffer needless tribulation.
7 Let others hold
Their wealth of gold,
Thou truly hast a more abiding treasure;
Rejoice and sing,
Thy praises bring
To Him who blesseth thee in fullest measure.
Source: American Lutheran Hymnal #360