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Christ Incarnate. |
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The quire of angels caught the word, Nor yet their silence broke : But when they heard the sign, where Christ should be, In sudden light they shone, and heavenly harmony.
Wrapped in His swaddling bands,
And in His manger laid, The Hope and Glory of all lands Is come to the world's aid : No peaceful home upon His cradle smil'd; Guests rudely went and came, where slept the royal Child.
But where Thou dwellest, Lord, No other thought should be, Once duly welcomed and ador'd. How should I part with Thee ? Bethlehem must lose Thee soon ; but Thou wilt grace The single heart to be Thy sure abiding place.
Thee, on the bosom laid Of a pure virgin mind, In quiet ever and in shade Shepherd and sage may find ; They, who have bowed untaught to Nature's sway, And they, who follow Truth along her star-paved way.
The pastoral spirits first
Approach Thee, Babe divine ; For they in lowly thoughts are nurst,
Meet for Thy lowly shrine :
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