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, goodwill to men,
From heav'n's all gracious king
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
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.
And hear the angels sing.