Who is this so weak and
helpless, Child of lowly
Hebrew maid,
Rudely in a stable
sheltered, coldly in a
manger laid?
’Tis the Lord of all
creation, Who this wondrous
path hath trod;
He is God from everlasting,
and to everlasting God.
Who is this, a Man of
sorrows, walking sadly
life’s hard way,
Homeless, weary, sighing,
weeping, over sin and
Satan’s sway?
’Tis our God, our glorious
Savior, Who above the starry
sky
Now for us a place prepareth,
where no tear can dim the
eye.
Who is this? Behold Him
shedding drops of blood upon
the ground!
Who is this, despised,
rejected, mocked, insulted,
beaten, bound?
’Tis our God, Who gifts and
graces on His church now
poureth down;
Who shall smite in righteous
judgment all His foes
beneath His throne.
Who is this that hangeth
dying while the rude world
scoffs and scorns,
Numbered with the
malefactors, torn with
nails, and crowned with
thorns?
’Tis the God Who ever liveth,
’mid the shining ones on
high,
In the glorious golden city,
reigning everlastingly.
