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, to all good will
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 blessed angels sing.
3 Yet with the woes of sin and strife
the world has suffered long;
beneath the angel-strain have rolled
two thousand years of wrong;
and we amid our wars hear not
the words of peace they bring;
O listen now, and still your 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:
O rest beside the weary road
and hear the angels sing.
5 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.
My Starred Hymns
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