1 Fly abroad, and tell the story,
Of the mighty Savior’s birth;
Say ye, that the Lord of glory
Leaves His throne and comes to earth.
He, before whom angels bow,
Takes the form of man below.

2 Hither come, and view the Stranger,
View the Infant lately born;
See, He lives in yonder manger,
By the world cast out in scorn.
Mark Him well, for this is He,
Born to set His people free.

3 Wonder not that thus ye see Him,
Lying in this humble place:
Nor indulge a wish to to free Him,
From a state so low and base.
Worldly pomp the Savior scorns:
Him no outward state adorns.

4 Sing, ye saints, the Savior’s praises:
’Twas for you He suffered shame;
Yes, He stooped that He might raise us
To the place from whence He came.
Though He now appears so low,
Crowns shall soon adorn His brow.

5 Learn from His obscure condition
How to think of all below;
Scorn He meets, and opposition:
Jesus finds in man His foe.
Such our master was, and we
Must expect like Him to be.