Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay:
When His birthplace was a stable,
And His softest bed was hay.
Blessèd Babe, what glorious features,
Spotless, fair, divinely bright!
Must He dwell with brutal creatures?—
How could angels bear the sight!
Was there nothing but a manger
Cursèd sinners could afford
To receive the heavenly Stranger?