Оригинален текст
What Child is this, who laid to rest,
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Why lies He in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear: for sinners here,
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spears shall pierce Him through
The cross be born for me and you
Hail, hail the word meet flesh
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh;
Come peasant, king to own Him.
The King of Kings salvation brings;
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise the song on high
The virgin sings her lullaby
Joy, joy for Christ is born
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
The Babe, the Son of Mary
The Babe, the Son of Mary