From Heaven Above To Earth I Come

The last carol I mentioned post was "A Great and Mighty Wonder", an old and obscure song that I introduced to the church. It became one of my favorite Christmas Carols. There was another song I introduced that became one of my favorites – “From Heaven Above To Earth I Come.” It was written by Martin Luther for his son Hans in 1540. Luther, who loved Christmas, entitled it Vom Himmel hoch da komm ich her (doesn't that clear things up?). Since most of us don’t know German, it was translated into English by Catherine Winkworth in 1855. (If you know and like hymns, especially older hymns, then you are familiar with Winkworth.) We sang this to the tune, Sagina (And Can It Be That I Should Gain – a hymn I believe every Christian knows by heart!)

From Heaven Above To Earth I Come

From Heaven above to earth I come
To bear good news to every home;
Glad tidings of great joy I bring
Whereof I now will say and sing:
To you this night is born a child
Of Mary, chosen mother mild;
This little child, of lowly birth,
Shall be the joy of all your earth.

"This is the Christ, our God and Lord,
Who in all need shall aid afford;
He will Himself your Savior be,
Himself from sin will make you free.
He brings those blessings, long ago
Prepared by God for all below;
Henceforth His kingdom open stands
Open to people in all lands.

Now let us all with gladsome cheer
Follow the shepherds, and draw near
To see what God for us has done
In sending us His glorious Son.
Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes!
Who is it in yon manger lies?
Who is this lovely baby boy?
’Tis Jesus Christ our only joy.

Welcome to earth, Thou noble guest,
Through whom e'en wicked men are blest!
In mercy come to our distress,
How can we thank thy gentleness?
Ah, Lord, who didst all things create,
How cam’st Thou to this estate,
To make the hay and straw thy bed
Whereon the ox and ass are fed?

And thus, dear Lord, it pleaseth Thee
To make this truth quite plain to me,
That all the world's wealth, honor, might,
Are naught and worthless in Thy sight.
Ah! dearest Jesus, Holy Child,
Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,
Within my heart, that it may be
A quiet chamber kept for Thee.

My heart for very joy doth leap,
My lips no more can silence keep;
I too must sing with joyful tongue
That sweetest ancient cradle-song—
Glory to God in highest Heaven,
Who unto man His Son hath given!
While angels sing with pious mirth
A glad new year to all the earth