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 the highest Heaven,
Who unto man His Son hath given,
While angels sing with pious mirth,
A glad New Year to all the earth.