Classic Poem

O Lord, our God, and is it thus we greet
Thee first on earth! Yea, Thee, the Mighty One,
Brought low, made outcast, laid here at our feet
This winter's night, whose raging wind and sleet
Bid Thee grim welcome to a world undone!

Ah! Thou hast emptied Thyself indeed, dear Lord,
That in a Babe's lone weakness we should view Thee.
O bitter ransom's price! O Great Heart, stored
With love heroic! And shall sin's abhorred,
Rude presence thus through all life's hours pursue Thee?

Hark! in the hostel how men laugh and sing,
Round the heaped fire carousing through the night!
They house Thee not; they heed not anything
Of Thine: some foolish shepherds only bring
Their offerings here by yon faint lanthorn's light.

Adorable Creator, Babe New-born,
With these poor herdsmen let me kneel and pray!
The world without Thee is a thing forlorn,
Vexed wand'rer 'mid a night that knows not morn:
From Thee, alone from Thee, streams full the Day!