Not as a king unto us He came,
Not with the pomp of a titled name;
No haughty herald He sent before,
No royal robe to the world He wore. Not with the sound of the conqueror's drum,
Not with an armed host did He come,
From the lowly hamlet of Bethlehem,
To the holy city, Jerusalem. They looked for His coming in power and might,
Appareled in majesty, grandeur, light;
No earthly glory to them He brought,
He came to His own and they knew Him not. Not as a king's, O Thou Holy One
Was thy throne established, thy reign begun;
In the Bethlehem manger he wept and smiled,
When He came unto us as a little child. O man, in your kingly glory strong!
O queenly proud of the festal throng!
In the sheen of your royal grandeur dressed,
Tired with the toys of a world's unrest. Not as a king, oh! Not as a king,
To His glorious presence He bids you bring,
Costliest incense and gold to buy,
Favor and peace at His throne on high. Hearken, who comest with kingly tread!
Listen, who bowest the crowned head?
On him alone hath the Saviour smiled,
Who came unto Him as a little child.