What Child is this, who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet, with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this, is Christ the King!
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing;
Haste haste to bring Him laud,
The babe, the son of Mary.
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come peasant king to own Him;
The King of kings, salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise a song on high!
The virgin sings her lullaby;
Joy joy for Christ is born
The Babe, the son of Mary.
Why, lies He, in such mean estate,
Where ox and sheep are feeding?
Good Christian, fear: for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
This, this, is Christ the King!
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing;
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The babe, the son of Mary.
Raise, raise a song on high!
The virgin sings her lullaby;
Joy joy for Christ is born
The Babe, the son of Mary.