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Search criteria: 17675671115534543

From heaven high I come to you From Heaven High
8.8.8.8

Hymn Code:
17675671115534543

PDF Score
Cyberhymnal
Hymnary.org

Organ
(CM)
4/C 178.9kb
1.5mb
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(CM)
4/C 479.5kb
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BIAB Info
1.7mb
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4/C
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Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes Vom Himmel Hoch (arr Bach)
8.8.8.8

Hymn Code:
17675671115534543

PDF Score
Cyberhymnal
Hymnary.org

Organ
(CM)
6/C 171.2kb
3mb
(Please note: There maybe differences in the harmony, timing etc between the various recordings.
This is due to the actual hymnbook version I used at the time.)

From heaven high I come to you

Author: Martin Luther

From heaven high I come to you,
I bring you tidings good and new;
Glad tidings of great joy I bring,
Whereof I now will say and sing:

To you this night is born a child
Of Mary, chosen virgin mild;
This little child, of lowly birth,
Shall be the joy of all the earth.

This is the Christ, our God and Lord,
Who in all need shall aid afford;
He will himself your Saviour be
From all your sins to set you free.

These are the tokens ye shall mark:
The swaddling-clothes and manger dark:
There ye shall find the Infant laid
By whom the heav'ns and earth were made.

Now let us all with gladsome cheer
Go with the shepherds and draw near
To see the precious gift of God,
Who hath his own dear Son bestowed.

Welcome to earth, thou noble Guest,
Through whom the sinful world is blest!
In my distress thou com'st to me;
What thanks shall I return to thee?

Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes

Author: Martin Luther

Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes!
What is it in that manger lies?
Who is the Child so young and fair?
The blessed Christ Child lieth there.

Ah, Lord, who hast created all,
How hast Thou made Thee weak and small,
That Thou must choose Thy infant bed,
Where ass and ox but lately fed.

Were earth a thousand times as fair,
Beset with gold and jewels rare,
She yet were far too poor to be
A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee.

Ah, dearest Jesus, holy child,
Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled
Within my heart, that it may be
A quiet chamber kept for Thee.

My heart for very joy doth leap,
My lips no more can silence keep;
I, too, must sing, with joyful tongue,
That sweetest, dearest cradle song.

Glory to God in highest Heav'n,
Who unto man His Son has giv'n,
While angels sing, our hearts to cheer,
To all the earth a glad new year!