Our Little Lord by George McDonald

Our little Lord, we give thee praise,
     that Thou hast deigned to take our ways.
Born of Mary, a man to be,
     and all the angels sing to thee.
The eternal Father's Son He lay,
     cradled in a crib of hay.
The everlasting God appears
     in our frail flesh and blood and tears.
What the globe could not enwrap,
     nestled lies in Mary's lap.
Just a baby, very wee,
     yet the Lord of all the world is He.
   –Martin Luther 

They were looking for a king
To slay their foes and lift them high;
Thou cam'st, a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.