| It came upon the midnight clear |
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that glorious song of old |
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And still their heavenly music floats |
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"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men |
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from heaven's all-gracious king" |
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The world in solemn stillness lay |
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Still through the cloven skies they come |
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With peaceful wings unfurled |
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And still their heavenly music floats |
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Above the sad and lowly plains |
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They bend on hovering wing |
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And ever o'er its babel sounds |
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And ye, beneath life's crushing load |
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Whose forms are bending low |
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Who toil along the climbing way |
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With painful steps and slow |
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Look now! For glad and golden hours |
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O rest beside the weary road |
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For lo, the days are hastening on |
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By prophet bards foretold |
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When with evercircling years |
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Comes roung the age of gold |
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When peace shall over all the earth |
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Its ancient spendors fling |
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And the whole world give back the song |
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Which now the angels sing |
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