In the Springtime
de Mary Thienes Schunemann
Oh, come ye
O come ye to Bethlehem
Come and behold him
Born the King of angels
O come, let us adore him
Christ the Lord
God of God
Light of light
Lo, he abhors
Not the virgin's womb
Very God
Begotten not created
O come, let us adore him
Christ the Lord
Sing, choirs of angels
Sing in exultation
Sing, all ye citizens
Of heaven above
Glory to God
In the highest
O come
Let us adore him
Christ the Lord
See how the shepards
Summoned to his cradel
Leaving their flocks
Draw nigh with lowly fear
We too will thither hend
Our joyful footsteps
O come, let us adore him
Christ the Lord
Yea, Lord, we greet thee
Born this happy morning
Jesus
To thee be glory given
Word of the Father
Now in flesh appearing
O come
Let us adore him
Christ the Lord
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