See in the manger an infant mild, Almighty God as a tiny child!
Natures of God and of man within, sinless, yet bearing our sin!
On this, Your birthday, Incarnate Son, censers of frankincense bring we none . . .
Yours was the sacrifice—we but wait! New life within us create!
Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise Him; He hath put Him to grief: when Thou shalt make His soul an offering for sin, He shall see His seed, He shall prolong His days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand. He shall see of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied: by His knowledge shall My righteous servant justify many; for He shall bear their iniquities.