It came upon the midnight clear
That glorious song of old
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold:
“Peace on the earth, good will to men
From heaven’s all gracious King.”
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing
Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurled
And still their heavenly music floats
O’er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing
And ever o’er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing
And ye, beneath life’s crushing load
Whose forms are bending low
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come 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 years
Comes round the age of gold;
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing
For lo! the days are hastening on
By prophet seen of old
When with the ever circling years
Shall come the time foretold
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing