Once I heard, when passing by
Bethlehem, the lullaby
Of a mother, who did greet
Her new babe in accents sweet;
Soothingly, caressingly,
O’er the infant nestling nigh
Did she croon it lovingly,
With a wistful wondering sigh;
That I listened in amaze,
Longing on the sight to gaze;
To my heart the soft tones cling.
In mine ears they still do ring —
’Twas St Mary thus did sing.

Open my lips, O Lord, always,
That I may fitly sing Thy praise;
I cannot tell the mystery —
That which I see not, teach Thou me.

My Son! how should I speak to Thee?
My mighty One! what wouldst Thou be?
I would Thy name, Thy greatness, shew
Oh! teach me what I do not know.

If “Lord” I call Thee, yet Thou art
My child, the darling of my heart,
My kisses press Thy lips and brow
Oh! teach me, for I know not how.

A “servant” some may think Thee now,
Yet crowned kings before Thee bow.
And kneel as at a Monarch’s throne
Teach, Lord, what is to me unknown.

And if they own Thee “rich and great”
Yet see how meagre is Thy state,
Thy clothing scant, Thy fare how low !
Oh! teach me, for I do not know.

If men do call Thee “and poor mean,”
Yet Ophir’s gold to Thee hath been
But earthy dross, though all Thine own!
Lord, teach me, ’tis to me unknown.

“Ancient of days” art Thou? yet born
Into this earth but yestermorn,
Whom now I suckle at my breast!
Oh! teach me, for Thou knowest best.

If “mine own son” I name Thee now,
Thy father David sings that Thou,
Ere time began, wast God adored
Alas, I know not, teach me, Lord.

Thy name it is Immanuel,
The Prince, the Head of Israel,
Thus spake the herald Gabriel
“His Name shall be Immanuel.”

Grant Thy mercy to the singer,
And to him who tells the tale.
And where listeners throng unknowing.
May Thy pardon never fail;
Where the faithful gather humbly,
O our God, amid their fears.
Shew the boundless love of heaven,
Through the coming of the years.