What Child is this
Who, laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet
With anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ, the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring Him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary

Why lies He in
Such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear:
For sinners here
The silent Word is pleading:
Nails, spear, shall pierce Him through
The Cross be borne, for me and you:
Hail, hail the Word made flesh
The Babe, the Son of Mary

So bring Him incense
Gold and myrrh
Come, peasant king, to own Him;
The King of Kings
Salvation brings;
Let loving hearts enthrone Him
Raise, raise the song on high
The Virgin sings her lullaby:
Joy, joy, for Christ is born
The Babe, the Son of Mary
This is the Son of Mary