Christmas Day

O Saviour, whom this holy morn
Gave to our world below,
To mortal want and labour born,
And more than mortal woe;

Incarnate Word! by every grief,
By each temptation tried,
Who lived to yield our ills relief,
And to redeem us, died!

If gaily clothed and proudly fed,
In dangerous wealth we dwell,
Remind us of Thy manger bed
And lowly cottage cell!

If, prest by poverty severe,
In envious want we pine,
Oh, may the Spirit whisper near
How poor a lot was Thine!

Through fickle fortune's various scene
From sin preserve us free!
Like us Thou hast a mourner been, —
May we rejoice with Thee!