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Infant Holy, Infant Lowly

SacredOrigin: PolandFirst published 1920
1
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, Noels ringing, Tidings bringing, Christ the Babe is Lord of all.
2
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!

By: English translation by Edith Margaret Gellibrand Reed, traditional Polish hymn possibly 13th century

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