1 Arise and hail the sacred day,
Cast all low cares of life away,
And thought of meaner things:
This day to cure our deadly woes,
The Son of Righteousness arose,
With healing in his wings.
2 If angels on that happy morn,
The Saviour of the world was born,
Pour'd forth seraphic songs;
Much more should we of human race,
Adore the wonders of his grace,
To whom the grace belongs.
3 How wonderful, how vast his love,
Who left the shining realms above,
Those happy seats of rest!
How much for lost mankind he bore,
Their peace and pardon to restore,
Can never be express'd.
4 Whilst we adore his boundless grace,
And pious mirth and joy take place
Of sorrow, grief and pain.
Give glory to our God on high,
And not amongst the gen'ral joy,
Forget good will to men.
5 O! then let heav'n and earth rejoice,
Creation's whole united voice,
And hymn that happy day;
When sin and Satan vanquish'd fell,
And all the pow'rs of death and hell,
Before his sov'reign sway.
|First Line:||Arise, and hail the sacred day|
|Title:||A Hymn for Christmass Day|