One of Brorson's best-known hymns

Here come your children, Jesus

Here come your children, Jesus, they

to Bethlehem all make their way;

to every soul and mind give light

to find the path to you aright.

With songs we hasten you to meet

and kiss the dust here at your feet;

o blessed hour, o night so clear,

when you were born, soul’s treasure dear!

When you came from your heav’nly throne

to this drear vale, the welcome shown

was nothing else, while you drew breath,

than stable, manger, cross and death.

In Satan’s power the whole world stood,

when Jesus, hands bright red with blood,

with mighty power did tear us free

from all our foes’ foul tyranny.

But Jesus, ah, how can it be

that so few people try to see

the fervent nature of your love

that drew you earthwards from above?

So draw us close up to your breast,

o Jesus, friend our soul loves best,

that each of us may by your grace

and through our faith you then embrace.

Let not the world’s power break your prized

firm convenant with all baptised,

but grant that all our longing stay

for you, for you alone, we pray!

Then it shall be that we one day,

among the saints’ rejoicing, may

in heaven’s paradise anew

your praises sing as angels do!

We stand here now, a mighty host,

around you, flower-heart we love most.

Ah, help us, so this mortal band

one day before your throne may stand!