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127 – Infant Holy, Infant Lowly

1

Infant holy, infant lowly,

For His bed a cattle stall;

Oxen lowing, little knowing

Christ the babe is Lord of all;

Swift are winging angels singing,

Noels ringing, tidings bringing,

Christ the babe is Lord of all,

Christ the babe is Lord of all.

2

Flocks were sleeping, shepherds keeping

Vigil till the morning new;

Saw the glory, heard the story,

Tidings of the gospel true;

Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow,

Praising voicing greet the morrow,

Christ the babe was born for you,

Christ the babe was born for you.