Infant Holy, Infant Lowly Polish Carol E.M.G. Reed (English)
Infant holy, infant lowly, for His bed a cattle stall;
Oxen lowing, little knowing, Christ the Babe is Lord of all.
Swift are winging, Angels singing, Nowells ringing,
Tidings bringing: Christ the Babe is Lord of all.
Flocks were sleeping, Shepherds keeping vigil ‘till the morning new.
Saw the glory, heard the story, tidings of a Gospel true.
Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow, praises voicing, greet the morrow,
Christ the Babe was born for you.