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.
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 voicing, greet the morrow:
Christ
the Babe was born for you.
--Traditional
Polish carol, translated to English by Edith M. Reed, 1921
Read
the last two lines again, and imagine greeting the
morrow—tomorrow—with that attitude. Jesus was born for You! God
cares so much about you that He gave His son for You!
photo credit: TheRevSteve via photopin cc
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