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