There was none to receive Him, none to believe Him,
None but the angels were watching that morn.
Dear little Stranger, slept in a manger,
No downy pillow under His head;
But with the poor He slumbered secure,
The dear little Babe in His bed.
2
Angels descending, over Him bending,
Chanted a tender and silent refrain;
Then a wonderful story told of His glory,
Unto the shepherds on Bethlehem’s plain.
3
Dear little Stranger, born in a manger,
Maker and Monarch, and Savior of all;
I will love You forever! Grieve You? No, never!
You did for me make Your bed in a stall.
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