| Once in royal David’s city, | 
| Stood a lowly cattle shed, | 
| Where a mother laid her Baby, | 
| In a manger for His bed: | 
| Mary was that mother mild, | 
| Jesus Christ, her little Child. | 
| He came down to earth from heaven, | 
| Who is God and Lord of all, | 
| And His shelter was a stable, | 
| And His cradle was a stall: | 
| With the poor, and mean, and lowly, | 
| Lived on earth our Savior holy. | 
| For He is our childhood’s pattern; | 
| Day by day, like us, He grew; | 
| He was little, weak, and helpless, | 
| Tears and smiles, like us He knew; | 
| And He cares when we are sadness, | 
| And he shares when we are gladness. | 
| And our eyes at last shall see Him, | 
| Through His own redeeming love; | 
| For that Child so dear and gentle, | 
| Is our Lord in heaven above: | 
| And He leads His children on, | 
| To the place where He is gone. | 
| Not in that poor lowly stable. | 
| With the oxen standing by; | 
| We shall see Him but in Heaven, | 
| Set at God’s right hand on high; | 
| Where like stars His children crowned, | 
| All in white shall wait around. |