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424

Hymn for Christmas-Day.

I

What Words? what Voices can we bring?
Which way our Accents raise
To welcom the Mysteri'ous King?
And sing a SAVIOUR's Praise!
What Earthly Harmony can reach
Up to the Theme so high?
When Angels ne'er cou'd soar that Pitch,
Who dwell above the Sky.

II

Lo! Heav'n this Day descends to Earth,
Th'Immortal Mortal grows!
Made Man by this stupendious Birth,
To quell our Deadly Foes:
In swadling Bands the Godhead lies,
To Human Flesh debas'd,
That we, his dearly Ransom'd Prize,
Might be to Glory rais'd.

III

Sing! let the Universal Frame
The Great REDEEMER Sing!
And Men and Angels at the Name
Bow to the Mystick King!
Redemption be the General Sound,
This Day no Grief appear!
From Earth to Heav'n the Notes rebound,
And Mercy smile to hear!

425

IV

O 'tis too little, all we can,
For this unbounded Love!
All that was ever writ by Man,
Or sung in Hymns above!
But tho' we can't fit Language find,
We Praise! Believe! Adore!
With Joyful Hearts, and Souls resign'd;
And wish we cou'd do more!