Make thee ready, as best thou art able,
Little Bethlehem, garnish the bed,
Tho’ it be but a crib in a stable,
Where the Infant may pillow His head,
Where the Infant may pillow His head.

Type and shadow of yore are now ended;
Lo, the substance is come, as I ken;
Truth Incarnate to earth is descended,
God hath pitchèd His tent among men.
God hath pitchèd His tent among men.

He is past through the virginal portal;
The Invisible doth not decline
To be found in the fashion of mortal,
For to make human nature divine,
For to make human nature divine.

Wherefore Adam and Eva, forgiven
Their iniquity cry, “By the grace
And goodwill of our Lord are we shriven;
Seen of men, He doth ransom our race;
Seen of men, He doth ransom our race.”