How Low Was Our Redeemer Brought

How low was our Redeemer brought, The King who held the stars. Lay helpless in a maiden's arms, And pressed against her heart. While sheep and cattle raised their voice, The Babe could speak no words. The ever-flowing spring of joy, Had come to share our thirst. How low was our Redeemer brought, The Lord the worlds obeyed. Would stumble as He learned to walk, Upon the ground He'd made. The One the angels bow before, Would kneel to wash our feet. And be at home among the poor, Though He owned everything. Gloria, gloria, in The highest. Gloria, gloria, in the Highest. How low was our Redeemer brought, To raise us from our shame. And now the highest praise of all, Belongs to Jesus' name. The healer wounded on a tree, to bear Our grief and sin. The King gave up His crown so we, Could ever reign with Him. Gloria, Gloria, In the highest. Gloria, Gloria, in the Highest. Gloria, Gloria, In the highest. Gloria, Gloria, In the highest. Gloria, gloria, in The highest. Gloria, Gloria, In the highest. Gloria, gloria, In the highest. Gloria, Gloria, In the Highest. How low was our Redeemer brought, To raise us from our shame. And now the highest praise of all, Belongs to Jesus' Name.