Good peo­ple, give ear,
As we sing loud and clear
Our song of a Christ­mas morn­ing.
In Jew­ry of old,
As the pro­phets fore­told,
A glo­ry came down to the earth:
And an­gels on high
Sang loud from the sky,
So we may have glad­ness and mirth.

O list, young and old,
As we sing in the cold,
Our song of a Christ­mas morn­ing.
It was cold on the plains,
Where a few sil­ly swains
Were watch­ing their flocks in the night;
But a glo­ry shone round,
And sweet mu­sic did sound,
And the wel­kin was filled with de­light.

Awake ye, and hear
For your sol­ace and cheer,
Our song of a Christ­mas morn­ing.
Anon were they ’ware
That an an­gel stood there,
And Fear not, said he, nor be sad;
For a Sav­ior is born
To a world that was lorn,
And there­fore ye all may be glad.

O hear, great and small—
And God bless you all—
Our song of a Christ­mas morn­ing.
There came in due time
From a far east­ern clime
Certain wise men led on by a star;
Their gifts they un­rolled,
Myrrh, in­cense, and gold,
And bore the glad tid­ings afar.

Now peace to you all
And de­liv­er­ance from thrall
On this bless­èd Christ­mas morn­ing.
Our sto­ry is told,
You have heard it of old,
We sing the same song ev­ery year;
But it ev­er is new
To hearts that are true:
May God of His grace send you cheer!