In the little village of Bethlehem,There lay a Child one day;And the sky was bright with a holy lightO’er the place where Jesus lay.
Alleluia! O how the angels sang.Alleluia! How it rang!And the sky was bright with a holy light’Twas the birthday of a King.
’Twas a humble birthplace, but O how muchGod gave to us that day,From the manger bed what a path has led,What a perfect, holy way.
My God! how perfect are Thy ways!But mine polluted are;Sin twines itself about my praise,And slides into my prayer.
When I would speak what Thou hast doneTo save me from my sin;I cannot make Thy mercies knownBut self-applause creeps in.
Divine desire, that holy flameThy grace creates in me;Alas! impatience is its name,When it returns to Thee.
This heart, a fountain of vile thoughts,How does it overflow?While self upon the surface floatsStill bubbling from below.
Let others in the gaudy dressOf fancied merit shine;The Lord shall be my righteousnessThe Lord for ever mine.