1 Rosy dawn, with locks of gold,
Looks upon the world awaking;
For the day by prophets told,
Lo, in beauty now is breaking,
And the Christ is come to earth:
Hail, all hail His wondrous birth.

2 Minstrels from the realms of light,
Bend to earth to sing His praises,
For, from depth to highest height,
God our fallen race upraises;
Now the Christ is come to earth,
Hail, all hail His wondrous birth.

3 Go to Bethlehem, wanderers lone,
Seek the Christ, for whom such glory
Flashing from the heavenly throne
Floods with light the ancient story:
For the Christ is come to earth,
Hail, all hail His wondrous birth.

4 There, in weakness see Him lie,
Cradled where His mother laid Him,
Who, by minstrels from the sky,
Hath immortal honors paid Him;
See the God-man come to earth,
Hail, all hail His wondrous birth.

5 King immortal! treasures rare,
Gifts of heart and life we bring Thee;
Hearts and voices everywhere,
More than gold—their praises bring Thee;
Thou, O Christ, art come to earth,
Hail, all hail Thy wondrous birth.