Blest, Withouten Match Lyrics

1. Blest, withouten match,
O Bethlem, is the gable
O'er that lowly cratch:-
The crib within thy stable.
For, as Babe, therein
That Lord and God abideth,
Who on Cherubyn
Aloft in glory rideth. Alleluia.

2. He is born to shrive
The son, his goods who squander'd,
Born to save alive
The sheep, that far had wander'd.
So bear we in mind
To hymn this heavenly stranger:-
God, who, for mankind,
Did not abhor the manger. Alleluia.