Ere the blue heav’ns were stretched abroad,
From everlasting was the Word:
With God He was; the Word was God,
And must divinely be adored.

By His own power were all things made;
By Him supported all things stand;
He is the whole creation’s Head,
And angels fly at His command.

Ere sin was born, or Satan fell,
He led the host of morning stars:
Thy generation who can tell,
Or count the numbers of Thy years?

But lo! He leaves those heav’nly forms,
The Word descends and dwells in clay,
That He may hold converse with worms,
Dressed in such feeble flesh as they.

Mortals with joy beheld His face,
Th’ eternal Father’s only Son;
How full of truth! how full of grace!
When through His eyes the Godhead shone.

Archangels leave their high abode
To learn new mysteries here, and tell
The loves of our descending God,
The glories of Immanuel.