Uzziah, Jotham, and Ahaz were defeated in their wars. In exchange for the exile that went down to Assyria, the Magi came to us in processions; the good fragrance of their spices wafted through our streets.
Refrain: Praise to You, Son of the Lord of all, who gives life to all.
Because You are the Son of the Merciful One, Your sweetness showed them mercy; because You are the Son of the Zealous One, Your might called them to account; because You are the Son of the Rich One, they repaid their debts through their offerings according to their love.
You balanced these things so that we would not grieve and they would live: those who had seized our silver brought gold; those who had struck our bodies brought myrrh; those who had burned our sanctuary offered frankincense to Your Divinity.
Their myrrh pleaded concerning the swords with which they had killed; their gold pleaded concerning our treasures, for they had plundered the treasuries of Hezekiah’s house; their frankincense appeased Your Divinity, for they had angered Your Father.
Ahaz sent to the Assyrian, “Come up and save me.” Those who had been brought low were exalted in You; they came to You with what they bore, in exchange for what had shamefully been carried away from the house of David.
Through his envoys Ahaz subjected himself to Assyria; through their envoys they were subjected to You. The tribe of the lion’s whelp bowed; to You, the One worthy of worship, the mighty who had been worshiped bowed down.
When Aram and Ephraim marched up, Zion feared that the house of David would be left desolate. Ahaz abandoned her and fled; Isaiah went out and gave her Your good news: “Immanuel is with us.”
“Behold, the Virgin shall conceive and give birth without union.” Is this a dream to me, O Child, as You lie upon my knees—this Immanuel? I will set everything else aside and give thanks every day to the Lord of all.
Those who had dishonored virginity in Zion honored Your Mother, virgin Child. The virginal signs she clothed You with went out with You. To me You are Child, Bridegroom, Son, and also God.
The Babylonians also came up and shattered the children in Judah. In You the children found peace, for in You the violent became worshipers. Those who had dishonored the elders honored the Child who is older than all.
Babylon also sent offerings to Hezekiah, and the envoys who saw his treasures marveled. What did You show the Magi? You showed them a wonder: they worshiped You while You were poor.
Though the ivory palace of the kings of our people was great, greater than it and more beautiful was the little cave in which You were born among the young cattle. The shepherds saw Your glory.
A small creature, when it puts on a crown, grows great through the crown. Your nature is great, Son of the poor, and in You whatever is small is magnified. Even if someone places thorns on Your head, they become a crown.
A despised body is adorned by precious stones; in You, Glorious One, even despised things become beautiful. Whatever touches You becomes great: even if someone throws a stone at You, it becomes a pearl.
Even Your sweat, for the one made worthy of it, is a baptism; and the dust of Your garments, for the sick person, is a great spring of every help. Even if Your spittle reaches a face, it gives light to eyes.
If You rest Your head upon a stone, they divide it and carry it away; if You sleep upon a dungheap, it becomes a church for prayer. And if You break ordinary bread, for us it is the Medicine of Life.
Who can reproach You, when even Your reproach is a blessing for the nations? Who can put You to death, when even Your death is a word of life for humanity? Even if You mount wood and ride it, You are the Paschal Lamb.
Since You, great Mountain, are greater than Your mother who bore You, I will sit and rest. Be a harbor for me, and I will take refuge in You. Your great nature cannot be interpreted. Permit Your Mother to be silent about You, for her mouth has grown weary.
Hold back Your gift from Your lyre, so that it may rest a little. You taught me everything I have said; You taught me how to speak. How can I be silent, when You Yourself have wearied me with praise? You Yourself give me rest. Glory to Your Father.