As if God, the Father, had sanctified

All sorrow for One Man’s sake.

O Child of the Promise! Lord of Love!

O Master of all the earth!

While the angels are singing their songs above,

We bring our gifts to Your birth.

Just the blind man’s cry, and the lame man’s pace,

And the leper’s pitiful call;

On these, over infinite fields of space,

Look down, for You know them all.