Thy Manger is My Paradise at Which My Soul Reclineth
Thy manger is
My paradise at which my soul reclineth.
For there, O Lord,
Doth lie the Word
Made flesh for us; herein Thy grace forth shineth.
He whom the sea
And wind obey
Doth come to serve the sinner in great meekness.
Thou, God’s own Son,
With us art one,
Dost join us and our children in our weakness.
Thy light and grace
Our guilt efface,
Thy heavenly riches all our loss retrieving.
Thy birth doth quell
The pow’r of hell and Satan’s bold deceiving.
Thou Christian heart,
Whoe’er thou art,
Be of good cheer and let no sorrow move thee!
For God’s own Child
In mercy mild,
Joins thee to Him; how greatly God must love thee!
What glory now
The Lord prepared thee for all earthly sadness.
The angel host
Can never boast
Of great glory, greater bliss or gladness.
The world may hold
Her wealth and gold;
But thou, my heart, keep Christ as thy true treasure.
To Him hold fast
Until at last
A crown be thine and honor in full measure.