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is this child so young and fair? The blessed Christ-Child li- eth there. A - men.

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3 Were earth a thousand times as fair,
Beset with gold and jewels rare,
She yet were far too poor to be
A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee.

4 Ah, dearest Jesus, holy Child,

Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,
Within my heart, that it may be
A quiet chamber kept for Thee.

5 My heart for very joy doth leap,

My lips no more their silence keep;
I too must sing with joyful tongue
That sweetest ancient cradle-song,--

6 "Glory to God in highest heaven.
Who unto man His Son hath given!"
While angels sing with pious mirth
A glad new year to all the earth.

Martin Luther, 1535; tr. Casherine Winkworth, 1855

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High-est, how lowly His birth; The brightest arch-an- gel in news let the earth ech- o round: How free to the faith-ful He glad-some ho- san - na a rise! Ye an-gels, the full alle

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stoops to redeem thee, He reigns up - on earth.

His peo-ple with joy e'er-last- ing are crowned.Shout the glad tidings,ex-ult-ing-ly sing!..... chorus resound thro' the earth and the skies!

Jeru sa-lem triumphs,Mes-si-ah is King, Mes-si- ah is King,Mes-si- ah is King.

Amen.

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O come, let us a-dore Him, O come, let us a dore Him, Christ the Lord!

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A-men. 26

MENDELSSOHN 7. 7. 7. 7. D.

Arr. from Mendelssohn, 1840 by William H. Cummings, 1850

4

Hark how all the wel- kin rings, "Glo-ry to the King of kings, Peace on earth, and

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born to-day!" U-ni-vers - al na- ture, say, "Christ the Lord is born to -day!" A-men.

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Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see,
Hail th' incarnate Deity!

Pleased as man with men to dwell,
Jesus, our Immanuel!

3 Hail the heavenly Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Risen with healing in His wings.
Come, Desire of nations, come,
Fix in us Thy humble home;
O to all Thyself impart,
Formed in each believing heart!

Charles Wesley, 1739, 43; v. 2, lines 7 and 8 alt.

NOTE.-In 1753 George Whitefield altered the first two lines to

"Hark the herald angels sing,

Glory to the new-born King!"

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Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no word, Whose hand no

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While Him I love, in Him I live, And can not live

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2 Love's sweetest mark, laud's highest theme, 4 Alas, He weeps, He sighs, He pants!

Man's most desired light,

To love Him life, to leave Him death,

To live in Him delight.

He mine by gift, I His by debt,

Thus each to other due,

First Friend He was, best Friend He is, All times will try Him true.

Yet do His angels sing;

Out of His tears, His sighs and throbs,
Doth bud a joyful spring.
Almighty Babe, whose tender arms
Can force all foes to fly,

Correct my faults, protect my life,
Direct me when I die.

Robert Southwell, 1560-1595

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