O’er Ju­dah’s plains amidst the night,
A more than mor­tal si­lence there,
The star­ry hosts in squad­rons bright,
Glow in the fir­ma­ment of air,
While shep­herds watch their sleep­ing fold,
Beneath that fret­ted arch of gold.

When lo! a stream of glo­ri­ous light,
Bursts in ap­pall­ing splen­dor there,
And showed to each as­ton­ished sight
An an­gel swift, and bright, and fair,
An agent in the Gos­pel plan,
Dispatched from Heav’n to mor­tal man.

With ra­di­ance in­ef­fa­ble,
The her­ald an­gel stands con­fessed,
And thence in li­quid sweet­ness fall
The ac­cents of the heav’n­ly guest;
Yet terrors now the shep­herds seize,
But words of com­fort them ap­pease.

“Fear not! to you and all man­kind
Glad tid­ings of great joy I bring!
In Da­vid’s ci­ty ye shall find
A new born Sav­ior, Christ, the King,
Whose sway from pole to pole ex­tends,
And mer­cy with His jus­tice blends.

A man­ger is His hum­ble bed,
And while the vir­gin mo­ther keeps
Her vi­gils round that ho­ly head,
E’en there the world’s Re­deem­er sleeps,
Enshrined for us in hu­man clay,
To ush­er in the Gos­pel day.

The an­gel spake—his re­tin­ue
Confirm the mis­sion from ab­ove;
And loud and sweet the an­them grew
Of tri­umph and re­deem­ing love!
O what a theme for Heav’n and earth,
The great Re­deem­er’s mor­tal birth!

Who, who but they, whose fa­vored eyes
Were blest with this apo­ca­lypse,
Could speak an­gel­ic har­mo­nies
With gold­en harps and heav’n­ly lips?
Come, Ho­ly Ghost, and tune my heart,
To sing a dy­ing sin­ner’s part.

As at cre­ation’s birth they sang,
So now, they ju­bi­lant ex­ult;
Their voic­es then with prais­es rang,
In glo­ry now to God re­sult;
And thus the lof­ty pre­lude ran,
Glory to God, good will to man.

Unveiled ap­pear the glit­ter­ing throng,
While hal­le­lu­jahs fill the sky;
Salvation is their joy­ful song;
All hail the Day-spring from on high;
And truth and mer­cy met, in­spire
The strains of the ce­les­ti­al choir.

As slow­ly now re­cede from earth
The rap­tured vi­sit­ants from Hea­ven,
And die the songs of Je­su’s birth,
Which the an­gel­ic host had giv­en,
The shep­herds go in faith to see
The God made man for you and me.