1. What Child is this who, laid to rest On Ma- ry's lap is sleep- ing? Whom an- gels greet with an- thems sweet, While shep- herds watch are keep- ing? This, this is Christ the King, Whom shep- herds guard and an- gels sing; Haste, haste, to bring Him laud, The Babe, the Son of Ma- ry.

2. Why lies He in such mean e- state, Where ox and ass are feed- ing? Good Christ- ians, fear, for sin- ners here The si- lent Word is plead- ing. Nails, spear shall pierce Him through, The cross be borne for me, for you. Hail, hail the Word made flesh, The Babe, the Son of Ma- ry.

3. So bring Him in- cense, gold and myrrh, Come pea- sant, king to own Him; The King of kings sal- va- tion brings, Let lov- ing hearts en- throne Him. Raise, raise a song on high, The vir- gin sings her lul- la- by. Joy, joy for Christ is born, The Babe, the Son of Ma- ry.