CHRISTMAS 85 From Heaven Above to Earth I Come Luke 2: 1–18 L. M. Vom Himmel hoch, da komm’ ich her Martin Luther, 1535 Tr., Catherine Winkworth, 1855, alt. Vom Himmel hoch “Geistliche Lieder” Leipzig, 1539 be and stow Lord, child come God gifts born earth I a Who Pre Of To “From 4 “He 3 “This 2 “To 1 is you heav’n will you Christ, night bove is the our to on the this a king self Him child, of His dom, your of great in will lit ti dings tle y, all by good bear Mar in pared for shall sen to God need cho news all aid vir ev low, ford; home; mild; That He This Glad be gin ’ry af of be all may Where Shall From You your with the now joy sins us I joy bring, birth, be fair, low Sav bright I ly ior and men. sing: earth. share. A free. say all set glo His will of to and the you ry 5 “These are the tokens ye shall mark: The swaddling-clothes and manger dark; There ye shall find the Infant laid By whom the heav’ns and earth were made.” 6 Now let us all with gladsome cheer Go with the shepherds and draw near To see the precious gift of God, Who hath His own dear Son bestowed. 7 Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes! What is it in yon manger lies? Who is this child, so young and fair? The blessèd Christ-child lieth there. 8 Welcome to earth, Thou noble Guest, Through whom the sinful world is blest! Thou com’st to share my misery; What thanks shall I return to Thee? 9 Ah, Lord, who hast created all, How weak art Thou, how poor and small, That Thou dost choose Thine infant bed Where humble cattle lately fed! 10 Were earth a thousand times as fair, Beset with gold and jewels rare, It yet were far too poor to be A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. 11 For velvets soft and silken stuff Thou hast but hay and straw so rough, Whereon Thou, King, so rich and great, As ’twere Thy heav’n, art throned in state. 12 And thus, dear Lord, it pleaseth Thee To make this truth quite plain to me, That all the world’s wealth, honor, might, Are naught and worthless in Thy sight. 13 Ah, dearest Jesus, holy Child, Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled, Within my heart, that it may be A quiet chamber kept for Thee. 14 My heart for very joy doth leap, My lips no more can silence keep; I, too, must sing with joyful tongue That sweetest ancient cradle-song: 15 Glory to God in highest heav’n, Who unto us His Son hath given! While angels sing with pious mirth A glad new year to all the earth.