To See in the Manger the Ancient of Days

My God, my Creator, the heavens did bow,
To ransom offenders, and stooped very low;
The body prepared by the Father assumes,
And on the kind errand most joyfully comes.

O wonder of wonders! astonished I gaze,
To see in the manger the Ancient of Days;
And angels proclaiming the stranger forlorn,
And telling the shepherds that Jesus is born.

For thousands of sinners the Lord bowed his head;
For thousands of sinners he groaned and he bled.
My spirit rejoices – the work it is done!
My soul is redeemèd – salvation is won!

Dear Jesus, my Saviour, thy truth I embrace –
Thy name and thy natures, thy Spirit and grace;
And trace the pure footsteps of Jesus, my Lord,
And glory in him whom proud sinners abhorred.

My God is returnèd to glory on high;
When death makes a passage, then to him I’ll fly,
To join in the song of all praise through his blood,
To the Three who are One inconceivable God.

-E. L. Schlict, from Gadsby's Hymns, No 41

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