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.
Flocks were sleeping, shepherds keeping
vigil till the morning new
saw the glory, heard the story,
tidings of a gospel true.
Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow,
praises voicing, greet the morrow:
Christ the babe was born for you.
Stars were gleaming, shepherds dreaming
Oh, the night was dark and chill
Angels' story, manger glory
Shepherds heard it on the hill
Ah, that singing, hear it ringing
Earthward winging, praises bringing
Christ, the babe was born for you
Christ, the babe was born for you
Christ, the babe was born for you

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