UNTO US A SON IS GIVEN

Given, not lent,

And not withdrawn — once sent —

This Infant of mankind, this One,

Is still the little welcome Son.

New every year,

New-born and newly dear,

He comes with tidings and a song,

The ages long, the ages long.

Even as the cold

Keen winter grows not old;

As childhood is so fresh, foreseen,

And spring in the familiar green;

Sudden as sweet

Come the expected feet.

All joy is young, and new all art,

And He, too, Whom we have by heart.