The shep­herds on fair Beth­le’m’s plain,
Asleep be­neath the star­ry host,
Awoke to learn how One shall reign
Whose pow­er is from the Ho­ly Ghost;
For an­gel songs the mes­sage bring,
Of joy in Heav’n and peace on earth,
That men the song may ev­er sing,
How Christ had sweet and low­ly birth.

The wise men came from far away,
From rich­est lands and bright­est seas,
Led on­ward by a star­rèd ray
To Him who in a man­ger lies.
They bend above the Child so fair,
And wor­ship Him as Lord and King,
With gifts of gold and gems most rare,
And ev­ery roy­al of­fer­ing.

And now men here are all aflame,
Here souls with heav’n­ly joy are filled;
Today was born that Child of fame,
Today anew our hearts are thrilled.
To Him our glad­some songs we raise,
To Him our choic­est trea­sures give,
To Him we of­fer end­less praise,
And seek in Him for Him to live.