Dost Thou in a manger lie, who hast all created,
                                        
                                        Stretching infant hands on high, Savior, long awaited?
                                        
                                        If a monarch, where Thy state? Where Thy court on Thee to wait?
                                        
                                        Royal purple where? Here no regal pomp we see;
                                        
                                        Naught but need and penury; why thus cradled here?