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.

Why lies He in such mean estate

Where ox and ass are feeding ?

Good Christian , fear : for sinners here ,

The silent Word is pleading.

Nails , spear , shall pierce Him through ,

The Cross be borne , for me , for you :

Hail , hail , the Word made flesh ,

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 , the song on high ,

Joy joy for Christ is born ,

The Babe , the Son of Mary !