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Song of Christmas

O, Jesus, Word made flesh to dwell among us,

How can I thank Thee for Thy Gift?  What way

Can I in human frailty find to praise Thee best,

Who came the price for my dread sin to pay?

Thou wert despised, rejected for Thine Own,

A man of sorrows from Thy day of birth.

And grief, it was Thy closest of companions.

Who was there found to love Thee on this earth?

 

My sorrows Thou hast borne, though I, ashamed, turned from Thee.

For my transgressions Thou wert wounded sore.

My peace, it brought to Thee chastisement.

Thy stripes did heal me.  Who could have loved me more?

I was a wandering sheep turned to his own way,

But Thou hast carried me within Thy arms.

To feed in pastures green beside still waters,

And here I rest, safe from all earthly harms.

My cup now overfloweth with Thy goodness!

What can I render to Thee in my thankfulness?

I’ll take this cup of Thy salvation, calling on Thee,

The greatness of this wondrous love confess