Author: Paul Gerhardt; John Kelly Hymnal: Paul Gerhardt's Spiritual Songs #4 (1867) Meter: 8.8.8.8 First Line: Behold! behold! what wonder's here! Lyrics:
Behold! behold! what wonder’s here!
The gloomy night turns bright and clear,
A brilliant light dispels the shade,
The stars before it pale and fade.
A wondrous light it is, I trow,
And not the ancient sun shines now,
For, contrary to nature, night
Is turned by it to day so bright.
What means He to announce to us,
Who nature’s course can alter thus?
A mighty work design’d must be
When such a mighty sign we see.
To us vouchsafèd can it be
The Sun of Righteousness to see,
The Star from Jacob’s stem so bright,
The woman’s Seed, the Gentiles’ Light?
’Tis even so—for from the sky
Heav’n’s hosts with joyful tidings hie,
That He is born in Bethl’hem’s stall,
Who Saviour is and Lord of all!
Oh blessedness! the goodly throng
Of sainted fathers waited long
To see this day, with hope deferr’d,
As we may learn from God’s own word.
Awake, ye sons of men, awake!
Up! up! and now your journey take
With me, let us together go
To where the blessèd angels show.
Behold! there in yon gloomy stall
He lies who ruleth over all;
Where once their food the cattle sought,
The Virgin’s child for rest is brought.
Oh, child of Adam! ponder well,
And stumble not at what I tell,
He who appears in this low state
For us is, and aye shall be great.
In mortal flesh we Him behold,
Who all things made and doth uphold,
The Word who was with God is He,
Himself is God whom now we see.
It is God’s sole-begotten Son
Through whom we now approach His throne,
The First and Last, the Prince of Peace,
The Conqueror through whom wars cease.
The times predicted are fulfill’d,
God’s fiery wrath must now be still’d;
His Son, made man, doth bear our load
Of guilt, our peace buys with His blood.
It is a time of joy to-day,
With mourning and with woe away!
Woe, woe to him who us revil’d!
God’s seen in flesh—we’re reconcil’d.
The Lord who bears our sin is here,
Who’ll bruise the serpent’s head is near,
The Death of death—the Woe of hell—
The Lord of Life with us doth dwell.
All foes are put our feet beneath,
For sin and Satan, hell and death,
Are brought to shame and put to flight
Upon this great, this wondrous night.
Oh! happy world, thrice happy they!
Who on this lowly infant stay
Their souls, and with believing eyes
In Him their Saviour recognize.
Now praise the Lord whoe’er can praise,
Who from their low estate to raise
His enemies, from His high throne
Sent down His lov’d, His only Son.
Up! join the angel host and cry,
Now glory be to God most High;
Let peace prevail the world around,
Good-will to men and joy abound.
Languages: English
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