The Lord is come! On Syrian soil,
the child of poverty and toil;
the Man of Sorrows, born to know
each varying shade of human woe:
his joy, his glory, to fulfill,
in earth and heaven, his Father's will;
on lonely mount, by festive board,
on bitter cross, despised, adored.
The Lord is come! In him we trace
the fullness of God's truth and grace;
throughout those words and acts divine
gleams of the eternal splendor shine;
and from his inmost Spirit flow,
as from a height of sunlit snow,
the rivers of perennial life,
to heal and sweeten nature's strife.
The Lord is come! In every heart
where truth and mercy claim apart;
in every land where right is might,
and deeds of darkness shun the light;
in every church where faith and love
lift earthward thoughts to things above;
in every holy, happy home,
we bless thee, Lord, that thou hast come.