The an­gel Ga­bri­el from Hea­ven came,
His wings as drift­ed snow, his eyes as flame;
All hail, said he, thou low­ly maid­en Ma­ry,
Most high­ly fa­vored la­dy, Glo­ria!

For know a bless­èd mo­ther thou shalt be,
All ge­ne­ra­tions laud and hon­or thee,
Thy Son shall be Em­ma­nu­el, by seers fore­told,
Most high­ly fa­vored la­dy, Glo­ria!

Then gen­tle Ma­ry meek­ly bowed her head,
To me be as it pleas­eth God, she said,
My soul shall laud and ma­gn­ify His ho­ly name.
Most high­ly fa­vored lady, Glo­ria!

Of her, Em­ma­nu­el, the Christ, was born
In Beth­le­hem, all on a Christ­mas morn,
And Chris­tian folk through­out the world
Will ev­er say—
Most high­ly fa­vored la­dy, Glo­ria!