When Jesus left His Father's throne,
He chose an humble birth;
Like us, unhonour'd and unknown,
He came to dwell on earth.

Like Him, may we be found below
In Wisdom's paths of peace!
Like Him, in grace and knowledge grow,
As years and strength increase.

Jesus pass'd by the rich and great,
For men of low degree;
He sanctified our parents' state,
For poor, like them, was He.

Sweet were His words, and kind His look,
When mothers round Him press'd;
Their infants in His arms He took,
And on His bosom bless'd.

Safe from the world's alluring harms,
Beneath His watchful eye,
Thus in the circle of His arms,
May we for ever lie.

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When Jesus into Salem rode,
The children sang around;
For joy they pluck'd the palms, and strow'd
Their garments on the ground.

Hosanna, our glad voices raise,
Hosanna to our King;
Should we forget our Saviour's praise,
The stones themselves would sing.

For we have learn'd to love His Name:
That Name divinely sweet,
May every pulse through life proclaim,
And our last breath repeat.