This poem presents us with mystery compounding mystery. The Incarnation is astonishing enough just in itself. But to assay the notion that is was an elective procedure taxes the nimblest imagination.
The blessed son of God only
In a crib full poor did lie;
With our poor flesh and our poor blood
Was clothed that everlasting good.
The Lord Christ Jesu, God's son dear,
Was a guest and a stranger here;
Us for to bring from misery,
That we might live eternally.
All this did he for us freely,
For to declare his great mercy;
All Christendom be merry therefore,
And give him thanks for evermore.