'Twas in the winter cold, when earth Was desolate and wild, That angels welcomed at His birth The everlasting Child. From realms of ever bright'ning day, And from His throne above He came with humankind to stay, All lowliness and love. Then in the manger the poor beast Was present with his Lord; Then swains and pilgrims from the East Saw, wondered, and adored. And I this morn would come with them This bless?d sight to see, And to the Babe of Bethlehem Bend low the reverent knee. But I have not, it makes me sigh, One offering in my power; 'Tis winter all with me, and I Have neither fruit nor flower. O God, O Brother, let me me give My worthless self to Thee; And that the years which I may live May pure and spotless be. Grant me Thyself, O Savior kind, The Spirit undefiled, That I may be in heart and mind As gentle as a child; That I may tread life's arduous ways As Thou Thyself hast trod, And in the might of prayer and praise Keep ever close to God. Light of the everlasting morn, Deep through my spirit shine; There let Thy presence newly born Make all my being Thine: There try me as the silver, try, And cleanse my soul with care, Till Thou art able to descry Thy faultless image there.