The joyful morn is break­ing,
The bright­est morn on earth,
Through all creation wak­ing
The joy of Je­sus’ birth.
His star above is glist­en­ing,
Where Je­sus cra­dled lies,
And all the earth is list­en­ing,
The ca­rol of the skies.

High strains of praise are swell­ing,
From an­gel hosts on high,
And one soft voice is tell­ing
Glad tid­ings from the sky;
Tidings of free sal­va­tion,
Of peace on earth be­low,
Through ev­ery land and na­tion,
The bless­èd word shall go.

His child­ren’s songs shall name Him
In ma­ny a tongue today;
His Church shall yet pro­claim Him
To peo­ple far away;
Till id­ols fall be­fore Him,
Till strife and wrong shall cease,
Till all the earth ad­ore Him,
Th’eter­nal Prince of Peace.