1 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 you
from heaven's all-gracious King!"
The world in solemn stillness lay
to hear the angels sing.
2 Still through the cloven skies they come,
with peaceful wings unfurled:
and still their heavenly music floats
o'er all the weary world;
above its sad and lowly plains
they bend on hovering wing,
and ever o'er its Babel-sounds
the blessèd angels sing.
3 But with the woes of sin and strife
the world has suffered long:
beneath the angels' hymn have rolled
two thousand years of wrong:
and warring humankind hears not
the love-song which they bring:
oh, hush the noise and still the strife
to hear the angels sing.
4 And you, 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:
oh, rest beside the weary road,
and hear the angels sing.
5 For lo! the days are hastening on,
by prophet bards foretold,
when, with the ever-rolling years,
still dawns the Age of Gold,
when peace shall over all the earth
its ancient splendours fling,
and all the world give back the song
which now the angels sing.
My Starred Hymns
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