Bright an­gel hosts are heard on high
All sweet­ly sing­ing o’er the plains;
While mount­ains ec­ho in re­ply
The bur­den of their joy­ous strains.

Say, shep­herds, why this ju­bi­lee,
What doth your rap­tur­ous mirth pro­long?
Say, say what may the tid­ings be
Which still in­spire that heav’n­ly song?

Come, come to Beth­le­hem, come and see
The Child whose birth the an­gels sing;
Come, come, ad­ore on bend­ed knee
The in­fant Christ, the new­born King!

See, there with­in a man­ger laid
Jesus, the Lord of Heav’n and earth!
See, saints and an­gels lend their aid
To ce­le­brate the Sav­ior’s birth!