1. Infant holy, infant lowly, For his bed a cattle stall; Oxen lowing, little knowing, Christ the babe is Lord of all. Swift are winging angels singing, Noels ringing, tidings bringing: Christ the babe is Lord of all. 2. Flocks were sleeping: shepherds keeping Vigil till the morning new Saw the glory, heard the story, Tidings of a gospel true. Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow, Praises voicing, greet the morrow: Christ the babe was born for you.
Lyrics: Polish carol; translated by Edith M. G. Reed
Music: Polish carol
Tune: W ZLOBIE LEZY
Meter: 8.7.8.7.8.8.7.7.