The Lord is come! On Syrian soil,
The child of poverty and toil;
The Man of Sorrows, born to know
Each varying shade of human woe:
His joy, His glory, to fulfill,
In earth and heav’n, His Father’s will;
On lonely mount, by festive board,
On bitter cross, despised, adored.

The Lord is come! In Him we trace
The fullness of God’s truth and grace;
Throughout those words and acts divine
Gleams of th’eternal splendor shine;
And from His inmost Spirit flow,
As from a height of sunlit snow,
The rivers of perennial life,
To heal and sweeten nature’s strife.

The Lord is come! In every heart
Where truth and mercy claim apart;
In every land where right is might,
And deeds of darkness shun the light;
In every church where faith and love
Lift earthward thoughts to things above;
In every holy, happy home,
We bless Thee, Lord, that Thou hast come.