What child is this, who, laid to rest
On Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary!

Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear, for sinners here,
The silent word is pleading;
Nail, spear, shall pierce him through,
The cross be born, for me, for you;
Hail, hail, the Word made flesh,
The Babe, the Son of Mary!

So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come peasant king to woe Him,
The King of kings, salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise the song on high,
The Virgin sings her lullaby:
Joy, joy, for Christ is born,
The Babe, the Son of Mary!

As an alternative, use the "This this is Christ the King" lines at the end of every verse.