The Incarnate Saviour

Awake, awake the sacred song,
To our incarnate Lord:
Let ev'ry heart and ev'ry tongue
Adore th' eternal Word.

That awful Word, that sov'reign pow'r,
By whom the worlds were made;
(O happy morn! illustrious hour!)
Was once in flesh array'd;

Then shone almighty pow'r and love,
In all their glorious forms,
When Jesus left his throne above,
To dwell with sinful worms.

To dwell with misery below,
The Saviour left the skies;
And sunk to wretchedness and woe.
That worthless man might rise.

Adoring angels tun'd their songs
To hail the joyful day:
With rapture then, let mortal tongues
Their grateful worship pay.

What glory, Lord, to thee is due?
With wonder we adore;
But could we sing as angels do,
Our highest praise were poor.