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It came upon the midnight clear |
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That glorious song of old |
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From angels bending near the earth |
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To touch their harps of gold |
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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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To hear the angels sing |
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For low the days are hastening on |
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By prophets [Incomprehensible] foretold |
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When with the ever circling years |
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Come 'round the age of gold |
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When peace shall over all the earth |
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It's ancient splendors fling |
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And the whole world give back the song |
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Which now the angels sing |
