Behold, the joy­ful day is nigh,
And an­gels’ voic­es from on high
Proclaim the news in ear­ly morn
That the Good Shep­herd now is born.

In qui­et splen­dor forth He comes,
The scat­tered sheep and ten­der lambs
To ga­ther, and their fold pre­pare
With all a shep­herd’s ten­der care.

The gen­tle Shep­herd we be­hold
Who, not with sil­ver and with gold,
But by His suf­fer­ing and His death
Will save us from eter­nal wrath.

His Church, though small its seed may be,
Shall grow in­to a migh­ty tree.
With fruit­ful branch­es spread­ing o’er
The earth till time shall be no more.

His word shall like a gen­tle rain
Make all the earth re­joice again,
And yield a rich and blest in­crease
In truth, and pu­ri­ty, and peace.

And Hea­ven and earth shall pass away,
Yet shall His word re­main for aye;
All tongues shall soon with one ac­cord
Proclaim Him Sav­ior, God and Lord.

Arise and shine, thy Light is come,
O hu­man­kind, O Chris­ten­dom;
Thy glo­ry and thy peace is here;
The Sav­ior of the world draws near.

All praise and glo­ry be to Thee;
For wis­dom, po­wer, and ma­jes­ty;
And for Thy grace, and mer­cy, Lord,
Forever be Thy name ad­ored.