Young men and maidens raise,
On this triumphant morn,
A grateful song of heartfelt praise
To Christ at Bethle’m born;
Your voices loud and sweet,
Expressive of your heart,
May sing to Him in praises meet,
And sorrow all depart.

The Father, from His throne,
The world’s creator gave
His well beloved, His only Son,
A ruined world to save.
By faith from countries far,
The eastern magi came,
Led by a bright and dazzling star,
To worship at His fane.

The infant Christ they found,
And lovely was the sight,
Their peace and joy would now abound,
And praise be their delight;
With worship Him they greet,
Nor could they gifts withhold,
But humbly lay at Jesu’s feet
Myrrh, frankincense, and gold.

We offer Thee, good Lord,
Our humble sacrifice;
“A contrite heart,” declares Thy word,
Thou never will despise.
O Lord, accept the gift
Of our unhallowed heart,
Our souls at last to Heaven lift,
To dwell where now Thou art.