When God Is Born, No Power Prevails

When God is born, no power prevails, Our Lord in nakedness enwound. All fire congeals, all luster pales, Contained is He that knows no bound. Despised, in glory comes untold, A mortal king for aye to reign. The Word of God in flesh behold, Now born to share our life mundane.

What have ye Heavens o’er the earth, That God forsook His sweet delight, And wished to take a human birth, To share our every toil and plight? And He did suffer unconsoled, And we were guilty of His pain. The Word of God in flesh behold, Now born to share our life mundane.

A meager shed for Him they found, And in a manger there He lay. What was He, and what was there ’round? Poor shepherds, cattle, sheep and hay. The poor had hailed Him, we are told, Before the rich would entertain. The Word of God in flesh behold, Now born to share our life mundane.

’Twas then, they say, appeared the kings, And jostled through the gathering dense. For Him they brought their offerings: The myrrh, and gold, and frankincense. The frankincense, and myrrh, and gold With rustic gifts He did retain. The Word of God in flesh behold, Now born to share our life mundane.

Raise now Thy hand, oh Child divine, And bless our homeland from the Height. By good advice and times benign, Support her strength with Thine own might: The hamlets, cities and the wold, Our houses, and our every gain. The Word of God in flesh behold, Now born to share our life mundane.

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