What child is this who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King,
Haste, haste to bring Him, Lord,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Why lies he in such mean a state,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear for sinners here,
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spears shall pierce him through
The cross be born for me, for you
Hail, hail the Word made flesh
The Babe, the Son of Mary
So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh
Come, peasant king, to own Him
The King of kings salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone Him
Raise, raise this song on high
The Virgin sings her lullaby
Joy, joy for Christ is born
The Babe, the Son of Mary you