Outside is where the wicked are
Outside the world is wild
But here is quiet, here is calm
A haven round a child

Wicked men make wicked plans
But that is far from here
When angels look on silently
No man has cause to fear

Stop and rest here, weary one,
In this stable ripe with hay
In cold night look upon the babe
And feel the warmth of day

Know, in ages yet to come
Those wearier far than we
Will find peace from men's rough ways
In Him whose face you see