Third Sunday in Lent

Babe of Bethlehem! Thy manger
Is above all thrones on earth;
God of gods! Thy greatest glory
Is Thy lowly human birth.
O, if in Thy deep abasement
I through grace forget not Thee,
When Thou comest in Thy kingdom
Wilt Thou not remember me?

Gentle Jesus! as a stranger
Yielding where the Child was free,
Rich Thy tribute from Thy people.
Richer than in mine or sea;
O, if ip Thy meek forbearance
I Thy truest glory see.
When Thou comest in Thy kingdom
Wilt Thou not remember me?

Saviour! for Thy people homeless.
That their homes might feel the light
And the warmth of Thy forgiveness
Resting on them day and night;
O, if in the lonely mountain
I through grace can watch with Thee,
When Thou comest in Thy kingdom
Wilt Thou not remember me?

Lower than of beasts that perish
Though Thine earthly shelter prove.
Higher than of bright archangels
Is the Godhead of Thy love:
O, if on that brow unshelter'd
I Thy kingly crown can see.
When Thou comest in Thy kingdom
Wilt Thou not remember me?

Wearied with life's toil and travail.
Saviour! take me to Thy breast,
By that fount of living waters
Let my soul lie down and rest:
O, if in Thy human weakness
I the well of life can see,
When Thou comest in Thy kingdom
Wilt Thou not remember me?