How Blest Is the Season

How blest is the sea­son

At which we ap­pear!

Bow down

sense and rea­son

Faith on­ly reigns here.

’Tis hard by mere na­ture

With cold­ness or scorn

That God our cre­at­or

An in­fant was born.

Lost souls to re­co­ver

And form them afresh

Our wond­er­ful lov­er

Took flesh of our flesh:

Then let each dull dream­er

Awake to this morn

And hail the Re­deem­er

At Beth­le­hem born.

Ye drunk­ards

ye swear­ers

Ye muck­worms of earth

Repent

and be shar­ers

In this bless­èd birth.

From sin to re­lease us

That yoke so long worn

The ho­ly Child Je­sus

Of Ma­ry was born.

Opposers

trans­gress­ors

Of ev­ery de­gree

And for­mal pro­fess­ors

The worst of the three

With tears of con­tri­tion

Your fool­ish­ness mourn;

To give you re­miss­ion

Immanuel’s born.

Ye vil­est of crea­tures

Backsliders so base

Bold re­bels and trai­tors

Abusers of grace

Come

cease your back­slid­ings

And once more re­turn:

Receive the glad tid­ings

A Sav­ior is born.

Poor sin­ners de­ject­ed

Of com­fort de­barred

Whose hearts are af­flict­ed

Because they’re so hard

Despairing of fa­vor

Cold

life­less

for­lorn!

Remember the Sav­ior

In winter was born.

And ye that sin­cere­ly

Confide in the Lamb

(He loves you most dear­ly)

Rejoice in His name.

No more the be­liev­er

From God shall be torn;

To hold him for ev­er

An in­fant is born.