From Heaven High I Wing My Flight

For Christmas Eve

Words: Vom Himmel hoch da komm ich her, by Martin Luther
From Joseph Klug's Gesangsbuch, 1535
Notes and Translations: Notes for Vom Himmel Hoch Da Komm Ich Her

Text based on Luke 2: 1-18

Translation: Henry William Dulcken

Source:  H. W. Dulcken, ed., The Book of German Songs (London: Ward, Lock, and Tyler, 1871), pp. 264-267.

Christmas Carol for Children

From heaven high I wing my flight.
To bring new tidings of glad delight ;
Or tidings good so much I bring,
Thereof I'll speak, and thereof I'll sing.

For unto you a Child, this morn,
Is of a chosen virgin born;
A Child so blest, and fair to see,
He shall your joy and your comfort be.

For He is Jesus Christ, our King,
Who succour to us all shall bring ;
To be our Saviour doth He deign.
Of all our sin to cleanse the stain.

Salvation 'mong you will He share,
Which God the Father did prepare,
That in the heavenly kingdom ye
Might dwell both now and eternally.

Then mark ye well the sign He chose,
The crib and lowly swaddling clothes;
There shall ye find the Infant lain
That earth and all things doth sustain.

Let us rejoice, then, every one,
And with the shepherds wander on,
To see what gift the God of heaven
To us, e'en his dear Son, hath given.

Awake ! my heart, and lift thine eyes !
Behold what in yon manger lies !
What is this beauteous Babe so mild?
It is the lovely Jesus child.

All hail to Thee, thou honoured Guest,
Who scorn'st not me, by sin opprest,
But helpest all my misery.
How shall I thank Thee worthily?

O Thou that all things didst create.
How hast Thou ta'en such lowly state.
That there Thou liest on withered grass.
Whereof have eaten ox and aas.

And, though the world were twiae as great,
Of jewels and of gold create,
Too poor and worthless were it all,
To be for Thee a cradle small.

Thy costly silks and velvets gay
Are swaddling clothes and poorest hay.
Whereon rich king Thou dost appear
As though thy heavenly kingdom 'twere.

Thus hath it seemed good to Thee
That Thou this truth mighte't teach to me.
That worldly honour, wealth, and gain
to Thee are empty, poor, and vain.

O Jesus, whom my heart holds dear,
Make thee a warm soft cradle here;
Within my breast a dweller be,
That I may ever remember Thee.

That evermore I may rejoice.
And leap, and loudly tune my voice,
The true Hosanna hymn to raise
In sweetest notes of heartfelt praise.

Glory to God on highest throne,
Who sent to us his only Son ;
Therefore rejoice, ye angel throng,
Of this new year to sing the song.

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