Behold, my Heart

Behold, my heart, the Babe divine,

This night, He left the skies.

And born on earth for sins of thine,

In that rough manger lies.

Canst thou behold, and yet be cold?

Or look with careless eyes?

And see, He naked lies, that thou

Shouldst walk in garments white.

To make thee conqueror, even now,

He comes to toil, and fight.

With welcome sweet His coming greet,

And sing His praise to-night.

He came in winter's frost and cold,

That thou shouldst warmèd be.

That heavenly light should thee enfold,

In midnight shades came He.

Come, meet Him here, with love sincere,

For much hath He loved thee.

To lead thee home above the sky,

He on the hay must sleep.

To give thee joy, thy tears to dry,

Himself will mourn and weep.

Give thanks with fear, it cost so dear

Thy soul from death to keep!

That thou should'st dwell where angels sing,

Between the beasts He lay,

Who of Archangels is the King,

Whom heavenly hosts obey.

With living faith in life and death,

Adore His love alway!