LYRIC
| Song | Child Of The Stable’s Secret Birth |
| Album | Epiphany Hymns |
| Genre | Traditional Christian Hymns |
| Writer(s) | |
| Publisher / Copyrights | |
| Key | |
| Tags | Child Of The Stable’s Secret Birth |
| Theme(s) | |
| Scripture Reference(s) | |
| CCLI Song No |
Child Of The Stable’s Secret Birth,
The Lord By Right Of The Lords Of Earth,
Let Angels Sing Of A King New-Born,
The World Is Weaving A Crown Of Thorn:
A Crown Of Thorn For That Infant Head
Cradled Soft In The Manger Bed.
Eyes That Shine In The Lantern’s Ray;
A Face So Small In Its Nest Of Hay,
Face Of A Child Who Is Born To Scan
The World He Made Through The Eyes Of Man:
And From That Face In The Final Day
Earth And Heaven Shall Flee Away.
Voice That Rang Through The Courts On High,
Contracted Now To A Wordless Cry,
A Voice To Master The Wind And Wave,
The Human Heart And The Hungry Grave:
The Voice Of God Through The Cedar Trees
Rolling Forth As The Sound Of Seas.
Infant Hands In A Mother’s Hand,
For None But Mary May Understand
Whose Are The Hands And The Fingers Curled
But His Who Fashioned And Made The World;
And Through These Hands In The Hour Of Death
Nails Shall Strike To The Wood Beneath.
Child Of The Stable’s Secret Birth,
The Father’s Gift To A Wayward Earth,
To Drain The Cup In A Few Short Years
Of All Our Sorrows, Our Sins, And Tears
Ours The Prize For The Road He Trod:
Risen With Christ; At Peace With God.
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