127 ~ Infant Holy, Infant Lowly
1
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, Christ the babe is Lord of all.
2
Flocks were sleeping, shepherds keeping Vigil till the morning new; Saw the glory, heard the story, Tidings of the gospel true; Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow, Praises voicing greet the morrow, Christ the babe was born for you, Christ the babe was born for you.