1 Come, ye lofty, come ye lowly,
Let your songs of gladness ring.
In a stable lies the Holy,
In a manger rests the King.
See in Mary's arms reposing,
Christ, by highest heaven adored;
Come, your circle round him closing,
Pious hearts that love the Lord.

2 Come, ye poor; no pomp of station
Robes the Child your hearts adore.
He, the Lord of all creation,
Shares your want, is weak and poor.
Oxen, round about behold them,
Rafters naked, cold and bare;
See the shepherds, God has told them,
That the Lord of life lies there.

3 Come, ye children blithe and merry,
This one Child your model make;
Christmas holly, leaf and berry,
All be prized for his dear sake.
Come, ye gentle hearts and tender,
Come, ye spirits keen and bold;
All in all your homage render,
Weak and mighty, young and old.

4 High above a star is shining,
And the wise men haste from far.
Come, glad hearts and spirits pining;
'Tis for you has risen the star.
Let us bring our poor oblations,
Thanks and love and faith and praise;
Come, ye peoples, come ye nations,
All in all your homage raise.