It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
Peace on the earth, good will to men,
From heaven's all gracious King;
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
Still through the cloven
skies they came,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heav'nly music floats
O'er all the weary world:
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hov'ring wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.
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O ye, beneath life's crushing load,
whose forms are bending low
Who toil along the climbing
way with painful steps and slow
Look now for glad and golden
hours come swiftly on the wing
O rest beside the weary road
and hear the angels sing.
For lo the days are hastening on,
by prophets seen of old
When with the ever circling years
shall come the time foretold
When the new heaven and earth shall
own the prince of peace their King
And the whole world send back the
song which now the angels sing.
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