Bend to Our Hymns, Redeemer

Bend to our hymns

Re­deem­er

The foe’s high brow bring lo;

Thou from on high be­hold­est

Each sin which works our woe;

Yet us

Thine own

Most Ho­ly

Who stead­fast­ly be­lieve

Thy min­strels

tru­ly faith­ful

Thyself in love re­ceive.

The band of herds­men chos­en

The strange new sight to see

Was trou­bled at be­hold­ing

The won­drous mys­te­ry:

The off­spring of a maid­en

Incarnate with­out seed

This

this the pass­ing mar­vel

No hu­man mind can read.

O sight all un­ac­cus­tomed

Their mon­arch

Christ the Lord

They see by tune­ful co­horts

Of se­ra­phim ad­ored;

In ten­der lov­ing-kind­ness

He comes

who rules the sky

And born of maid un­wed­ded

Fulfills His pro­mise high.

Erewhile with­out a body

The Es­sence flesh was made;

The Word took mat­ter to Him

From Ma­ry

stain­less maid:

That to Him­self

us sin­ners

The guil­ty sons of men

Creation’s fall­en chief­tains

He might draw back again.