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148 |
10,10,10,10,7,7
musthrion zenon.
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O wondrous mystery, full of passing grace! The grot becometh Heav'n: the Virgin's breast The bright Cherubic Throne: the stall that place, Where He, Who fills all space, vouchsafes to rest: CHRIST our GOD, to Whom we raise Hymns of thankfulness and praise! | |
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The course propitious of the unknown Star The Wise-men followed on its heavenly way,-- Until it led them, beckoning from afar, To where the CHRIST, the King of all things, lay: Him in Bethlehem they find, Born the SAVIOUR of mankind. | |
"Where is the Child," they ask, "the new-born King, Whose herald-light is glittering in the sky,-- To Whom our offerings and our praise we bring?" And Herod's heart is troubled utterly. Armed for war with GOD, in vain Would he see that Infant slain. |