The Babe of Bethlehem

1 All hail the peerless night,
Lit by unwonted light,
When Bethl’hem’s star o’er
Bethl’hem’s manger hung!
While, on Judea’s plains,
The wakeful shepherd swains
Saw angel forms, and heard
The song they sung.

2 Glory to God on high—
The God who rules the sky—
Goodwill to men, and
Holy peace on earth;
I seem to hear them sing;
They make the heavens ring
With songs of joy at our
Redeemer’s birth.

3 Born of a Jewish maid,
In Bethl’hem’s manger laid,
His head lies pillowed
On a virgin’s breast.
And did He stoop so low?
Did He the throne forego,
To raise us sinners to
The heav’nly rest?

4 Yes, Christ was born to bleed,
Such was our dreadful need,
That thro’ His death our
Sins might be forgiv’n;
Yet reigns He now on high,
And soon shall every eye
Behold His advent in
The clouds of Heav’n.

Source: The Cyber Hymnal #14190

• MIDI file from The Cyber Hymnal #14190