1 Stranger, who from out the bosom
Of the Father camest here,
And our human nature wearing
Didst in servants’ form appear;
Who beneath the homely raiment
Of the pilgrim Thou didst wear,
Didst the fullness of the Godhead
And the star of glory bear!
2 Mighty Stranger, give the spirit
Of a stranger here to me,
That I with Thy peace o’erflowing
May a pilgrim gladly be.
Let me not the world seek after,
That the best doth aye repel;
As a paradise within me,
Oh, may Thy salvation dwell!
3 Stranger, from the ranks of angels,
Who didst on the earth appear,
That I be a free man yonder,
May I be a pilgrim here!
Here with Thee in God now hidden,
Nothing worth in human sight;
There, upon the great tomorrow,
Openly a child of light!