Who is this so weak and helpless, Child of lowly Hebrew maid,
Rudely in a stable sheltered, coldly in a manger laid?
íTis the Lord of all creation, Who this wondrous path hath trod;
He is God from everlasting, and to everlasting God.
Who is this, a Man of sorrows, walking sadly lifeís hard way,
Homeless, weary, sighing, weeping, over sin and Satanís sway?
íTis our God, our glorious Savior, Who above the starry sky
Now for us a place prepareth, where no tear can dim the eye.
Who is this? Behold Him shedding drops of blood upon the ground!
Who is this, despised, rejected, mocked, insulted, beaten, bound?
íTis our God, Who gifts and graces on His church now poureth down;
Who shall smite in righteous judgment all His foes beneath His throne.
Who is this that hangeth dying while the rude world scoffs and scorns,
Numbered with the malefactors, torn with nails, and crowned with thorns?
íTis the God Who ever liveth, ímid the shining ones on high,
In the glorious golden city, reigning everlastingly.