BEHOLD a little Child,
Laid In a manger bed;
The wintry blasts blow wild
Around His infant head.
But who Is this, so lowly laid?
Tis He by whom the worlds were made.
Alas! In what poor state
The Son of God is seen;
Why doth the Lord so great
Choose out a home so mean?
That we may learn from pride to flee,
And follow His humility.
