To high and low glad tidings tell,

How God the Father loved us well,

How God the Eternal Son

Came to undo what we had done,

How God the Paraclete,

Who in the chafte womb framed the Babe so

sweet,

In power and glory came, the birth to aid and

greet.

"Wake me, that I the twelvemonth long

May bear the song

About with me in the world's throng;