Glad Christ­mas bells, your mu­sic tells
The sweet and plea­sant sto­ry;
How came to earth, in low­ly birth,
The Lord of life and glo­ry.

No pa­lace hall its ceil­ing tall
His king­ly head spread ov­er,
There on­ly stood a stable rude
The hea­ven­ly Babe to cov­er.

No rai­ment gay, as there He lay,
Adorned the in­fant Stran­ger;
Poor, hum­ble Child of mo­ther mild,
She laid Him in a man­ger.

But from afar, a splen­did star
The wise men west­ward turn­ing;
The live­long night saw pure and bright,
Above His birth place burn­ing.