Ho sweet as the song
Of the an­gels of light,
As, bend­ing o’er Beth­le­hem’s plain,
They struck their bright harps,
And the si­lence of night
Awoke at the hea­ven­ly strain;
While mild­ly around
Shone the glo­ry di­vine,
And bathed in ef­ful­gence so bright,
The mount­ain, the val­ley,
The sea, and the plain,
Once robed in the man­tle of night.

They sang of the break
Of re­demp­tion’s glad morn,
The ho­ly had longed to be­hold;
They sang of a Sav­ior
In Beth­le­hem born,
So long by the pro­phets fore­told;
They sang of good-will
From our God un­to men,
Of peace to a val­ley of tears;
They sang of sal­va­tion
From death and from sin,
A balm for our sor­rows and fears.

Then Glory to God
In the high­est! I’ll sing,
For I am a sin­ner on earth;
I’ll wel­come the tid­ings
Of mer­cy that bring
The news of Em­ma­nu­el’s birth;
I’ll go to His cross,
Though a sin­ner de­filed,
And wash in the fount­ain of blood;
I’ll pray for the grace
That can strength­en a child,
And bring him at last to his God.