O BABE of Bethlehem of whom the angels sang,
For whom their “Peace, goodwill to men,” thro’ earth and heaven rang,
To Whom the shepherds knelt, to Whom the wise men came
With precious gifts from lands afar, led by the star aflame.
O Babe of Bethlehem! still looks the world to Thee,
From Whom the kings of earth hold crowns and thrones in fee;
Still do the wise men bring their science and their art,
And own their highest wisdom yet is but of Thee a part;
Still do the humble come, leaving their toil awhile,
To where Thy presence is revealed, to where Thy face cloth smile.
O Babe of Bethlehem! all things to all Thou art;
Thou knowest every need of every human heart.
The Shepherd Thou Who leads at eve His flock into the fold,
The Potter Who with skillful hands our mortal clay doth mold;
In sorrow or in joy, a sympathizing Friend,
A Brother kind and true, Who loves us to the end;
The Jesus Who upon the Cross from sin His people saves,
The Christ Who fills with light and hope the darkness of our graves.
Thee do we still adore, to Thee our praises rise;
The Living Water Thou, the Bread that satisfies.
To Thee for peace we turn, from Thee our strength doth spring,
In Thee our rest we find, to Thee our burdens bring;
With Whom our life is hid, by Whom our life is given,
The Truth amid a world of dreams, the Way that leads to Heaven;
To Thee alone we come Who hast the words of life,
Through Thee alone we hope for victory in the strife;
By Thee our work is crowned, through Thee our trust we keep,
And by Thy grace, when day is done, in Thee we fall asleep.
ANNIE JOHNSON FLINT.
By courtesy of Evangelical Publishers, Toronto, Canada.