Oh! had I the voice of
An an­gel to sing
Of the joys that are bright­est on earth,
I would sing of the bless­ings
And com­forts that spring
From Mes­si­ah’s mi­ra­cu­lous birth.

What the law and the psalms,
And the pro­phets of old,
In full ma­ny a mar­vel­ous way,
To the fa­thers fore­sha­dowed,
Or plain­ly fore­told,
Are the won­ders that meet us to­day.

Not a jot or a tit­tle
Of Scrip­ture shall fail;
In the Lord’s ho­ly book it is proved,
That He is the Sav­ior,
Whose ad­vent we hail,
Our God, to be wor­shiped and loved.

Son of God, Son of man,
David’s son, Da­vid’s Lord,
Full of mer­cy, yet right­eous and just,
The truths that shine forth in
Thine own writ­ten word,
I re­ceive with sub­mis­sion and trust.

As the an­gels from Heav’n
Were sent down to pro­claim,
Good news on this glo­ri­ous morn,
And shep­herds and sages
All joy­ful­ly came
To the sta­ble where Je­sus was born.

Let me co­py the an­gels
In re­ver­ence and love,
With the shep­herds obe­di­ent be found;
And, guid­ing my way by
The light from above,
Like the wise in true know­ledge abound.