Oh Savior, Whom this holy morn
Gave to our world below;
To mortal want and labor born,
And more than mortal woe!
Incarnate Word! by every grief,
By each temptation tried
Who lived to yield our ills relief,
And to redeem us died!
If gaily clothed and proudly fed,
In dangerous wealth we dwell;
Remind us of Thy manger bed
And lowly cottage cell.
If pressed by poverty severe
In envious want we pine,
Oh may the Spirit whisper near
How poor a lot was Thine!
Through fickle fortune’s various scene
From sin preserve us free!
Like us Thou hast a mourner been,
May we rejoice with Thee!
(Special thanks to our friend Pastor Bruce Wasson for his special gift of
The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber, Late Lord Bishop of Calcutta
by M. A. DeWolfe Howe , from which this poem was taken.)