1 That little Babe in Bethlehem,
Upon its mother’s knee,
Created all the mighty worlds
Which o’er my head I see.

2 And this sweet earth I walk upon,
Was made so bright and fair
By Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
Who lies an infant there.

3 How could He leave His home on high,
To take that manger bed?
The angels long to spread their wings
Beneath His sacred head.

4 O Jesus! make my spirit like
Thine infant heart so meek;
And shut my eyes to earthly good,
While things above I seek.