1. I stand before Thy manger fair,
   My Jesus, Life from heaven!
   I come, and unto Thee I bear
   What Thou to me hast given.
   Receive it, for ’tis mind and soul,
   Heart, spirit, strength—receive it all,
   And deign to let it please Thee.

2. With Thy great love beyond compare,
   My soul Thou fillest ever,
   Thy glance so sweet, Thine image fair,
   My heart forgetteth never.
   How elsewise could it ever be,
   How could I ever banish Thee
   From my heart’s throne, O Savior?

3. When I as yet had not been born,
   Then hadst Thou been born for me
   And chosen me to be Thine own,
   Thy mercy shedding o’er me.
   Before I by Thy hand was made,
   Thou hadst the plan in order laid,
   How Thou Thyself shouldst give me.

4. I lay still in death’s deepest night,
   Till Thou, my Sun, arising,
   Didst bring joy, pleasure, life, and light,
   My wakened soul surprising.
   O Sun, who dost so graciously
   Cause faith’s good light to dawn in me,
   How lovely is Thy radiance!

5. With rapture do I gaze on Thee,
   Nor can enough adore Thee,
   Pow’r more to do is not in me,
   I’ll praise and bow before Thee.
   Oh that my mind were an abyss,
   My soul a sea, wide, bottomless,
   That so I might embrace Thee.

6. Oh let me kiss that mouth of Thine,
   My Jesus, Savior gracious!
   Thy mouth that e’en the sweetest wine
   And milk and honey precious
   In pow’r and virtue doth excel,
   Of comfort, strength, and sap ’tis full,
   And inwardly refreshes.

7. When oft my heart within doth cry,
   No comfort can discover,
   It calls to me, “Thy friend am I,
   Thine ev’ry sin I cover.
   My flesh and bone, why mournest thou?
   Thy heart be of good cheer e’en now,
   Thy debt, I have discharged it.”

8. Who is the master, where is he,
   Who in perfection sketcheth
   The hands this infant dear to me
   Now smilingly outstretcheth?
   The snow is bright, and milk is white,
   But both lose all their value quite
   Before these hands so beauteous.

9. Oh, wisdom fails me utterly
   For honoring and praising
   The eyes this infant fixedly
   To mine is ever raising.
   The full moon may be clear and fair,
   The golden stars most beauteous are,
   But these eyes far excel them!

10. Oh, that a star so passing fair
    Should in a crib be holden!
    Who mighty nobles’ children are
    Should lie in cradles golden!
    Ah, hay and straw too wretched are,
    Silk, velvet, purple better far
    Were for Thee, Child, to lie on.

11. Away with straw, away with hay,
    From where the Child reposes,
    And flow’rs I’ll bring, that lie He may
    On violets fair, and roses.
    With tulips, pinks, and rosemary,
    From goodly gardens plucked by me,
    I’ll from above bestrew Him.

12. And snow-white lilies here and there
    His side shall be thrown over;
    When closed His eyes with slumber are,
    Them shall they softly cover.
    But Thou may’st love the grass so dry,
    My Child, more than the things that I
    Have spoken or have thought of.

13. For this world’s pride Thou dost not care,
    Nor joys which flesh doth offer;
    In human form Thou liest there,
    For us to do and suffer,
    Seek’st joy and comfort for my soul,
    While waves of trouble o’er Thee roll;
    I never will Thee hinder.

14. One thing I bid Thee grant to me,
    My Savior, ne’er deny me,
    That I may evermore have Thee,
    Within and on and by me.
    And let my heart Thy cradle be,
    Come, come and lay Thee down in me,
    With all Thy joys and treasures!

15. ’Tis true, that I should think how poor
    And mean my entertaining,
    Than dust and ashes I’m no more,
    Thou mad’st, art all-sustaining,
    Yet art a guest belov’d and prized,
    For never yet hast Thou despised
    Him who delights to see Thee!

Ich steh an deiner Krippen hier
Paul Gerhardt, 1656
Tr. John Kelly, 1867, alt.