It is the eve of Christmas Eve,
    And cities move in breathless haste
Looking for some space to relieve
    The mind's distress, the spirit's waste.

Come, Holy Child: help us believe.

We count the hours until the day
    When wisdom shall appear enfleshed
Within a manger thick with hay
    To make our wounded world refreshed.

Come, Holy Child: do not delay.

O come, Emmanuel, O King,
    O Dawn that scatters darkness drear:
Come in the silence, whisper, sing,
    And bless your creatures far and near.

Come, Holy Child, our flourishing.

Love all poor bumblers back to grace;
    Gentle the hearts of sage and fool;
Make tender now the hardened face;
    Bring potentates beneath your rule.

Come, Holy Child: our pride abase.

O beauteous Mary, bravest bride,

    And silent Joseph, stalwart, strong,

Pray that our fearful souls might bide

    In life and light before too long.

Come, Holy Child: be at our side.