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Poem	(FROM THE GERMAN OF MARTIN LUTHER) O heart of mine! lift up thine eyes And see who in yon manger lies! Of perfect form, of face divine-- It is the Christ-child, heart of mine! O dearest, holiest Christ-child, spread Within this heart of mine thy bed; Then shall my breast forever be A chamber consecrate to thee! Beat high to-day, O heart of mine, And tell, O lips, what joys are thine; For with your help shall I prolong Old Bethlehem's sweetest cradle-song. Glory to God, whom this dear Child Hath by His coming reconciled, And whose redeeming love again Brings peace on earth, good will to men!
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