Let folly praise that fancy loves, I praise 

and love that Child

Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no 

word, whose hand no deed defiled.

I praise Him most, I love Him best, all praise 

and love is His;

While Him I love, in Him I live, and cannot 

live amiss.

Love's sweetest mark, laud's highest 

theme, man's most desired light,

To love Him life, to leave Him death, to live 

in Him delight.

He mine by gift, I His by debt, thus each to 

other due;

First friend He was, best friend He is, all 

times will try Him true.

Though young, yet wise; though small, yet 

strong; though man, yet God He is:

As wise, He knows; as strong, He can; as 

God, He loves to bless.

His knowledge rules, His strength defends, 

His love doth cherish all;

His birth our joy, His life our light, His death 

our end of thrall.

Alas! He weeps, He sighs, He pants, yet do 

His angels sing;

Out of His tears, His sighs and throbs, doth 

bud a joyful spring.

Almighty Babe, whose tender arms can 

force all foes to fly,

Correct my faults, protect my life, direct 

me when I die!