It Came Upon the Midnight Clear

It came upon the midnight clear,That glorious song of old,From angels bending near the earthTo touch their harps of gold:“Peace to the earth, good will to men,From heaven’s all-gracious King;”The world in solemn stillness layTo hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they comeWith peaceful wings unfurled;And still their heavenly music floatsO’er all the weary world:Above its sad and lowly plainsThey bend on heavenly wing,And ever o’er its Babel soundsThe blesséd angels sing.

Yet with the woes of sin and strifeThe world has suffered long;Beneath the angel-strain have rolledTwo thousand years of wrong;And men, at war with men, hear notThe love-song which they bring:O! hush the noise, ye men of strife,And hear the angels sing!

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load,Whose forms are bending low,Who toil along the climbing wayWith painful steps and slow;Look now! for glad and golden hoursCome swiftly on the wing:O! rest beside the weary road,And hear the angels sing!

For lo! the days are hastening on,By prophet-bards foretold,When with the ever-circling yearsComes round the age of gold;When peace shall over all the earthIts ancient splendor fling,And the whole world send back the songWhich now the angels sing.