1 Floating o'er Judea's plains,
And down the echoing height,
Hark, the love-evangel strains
Are blending with the night,
Angel voices from the sky
With music fill each vale and glen:
"Glory be to God on high,
On earth, good will to men."

2 Still is heard the shepherd's quest
That rose to Bethlehem's walls,
Burdened with a great unrest,
The world for Christ still calls,
From the vales and hills He trod,
Still rings the song that ne'er shall cease:
"Glory, glory be to God,
To men, good will and peace."

3 Evermore that wondrous strain
The door of hope unbars,
Whether in the cloistered fane
Or 'neath the Syrian stars,
Sing the joy-notes once again,
And let them echo to the sky:
"Peace on earth, good will to men,
Glory to God on high."

4 Angel harps, our souls inspire
With grace to conquer wrong,
Fill us with a deep desire
To live the angel song,
Till the life of love be found
In every land beneath the sky,
Till the whole wide world resound:
"Glory to God on high."