Verse 1

Infant holy, infant lowly, For His bed a cattle stall; Oxen lowing, little knowing, Christ the babe is Lord of all. Swift are winging, angels singing, Noels ringing, tidings bringing: Christ the Babe is Lord of all.

Verse 2

Flocks were sleeping, Shepherds keeping vigil Till the morning new; Saw the glory, heard the story, Tidings of a gospel true. Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow, Praises oicing, greet the morrow: Christ the Babe was born for you.

Verse 3

In a manger He is lying, Who will greet Him as He sleeps? Baby Jesus, infant Christ child, Who will greet Him as He sleeps? Angels winging, praises singing, Noels ringing, tidings bringing: Christ the Babe is Lord of all.