In the ear­ly morn­ing,
Ere the dark­ness clears,
Lo, a star most ra­di­ant,
High in hea­ven ap­pears;
And their eyes be­hold it,
Glowing like a gem,
As the sag­es jour­ney
Forth to Beth­le­hem.

In the ear­ly morn­ing,
While the shep­herds gaze,
Lo, through clouds asun­der,
Heaven is all ablaze;
Brighter than the sun­rise
From the east­ern hills,
And the song of an­gels
All cre­ation fills.

In the ear­ly morn­ing,
When the si­lence hung,
’Mid the daz­zling splen­dor,
Were the prais­es sung:
Glory in the high­est
To the God of Hea­ven,
Peace on earth abound­ing
Unto men be giv­en.

Now the sag­es, guid­ed
To the low­ly place,
Lying in a man­ger
Find the Lord of grace;
And they fall be­fore Him
As be­fore a king,
And their cost­ly of­fer­ings
With de­vo­tion bring.

Lord of life eter­nal,
Who didst come for men;
At the time ap­point­ed
Thou wilt come again;
Not a babe in meek­ness,
Born of hum­ble birth;
But the King im­mor­tal,
Judge of all the earth.

Glory in the high­est,
Be as­cribed to God;
Ceaseless hal­le­lu­jahs
Fill the earth abroad;
Glory to Im­ma­nu­el,
All cre­ation sing,
Who to Hea­ven hath raised us
By His of­fer­ing.