Sing we now of joy and glad­ness,
Christ our king come down to earth,
Frees man­kind from pain and sad­ness
Hail th’in­car­nate Sav­ior’s birth.
List, an­gel­ic strains are stream­ing
Through the Ori­ent skies;
Look, ce­les­ti­al light is beam­ing
On the won­der­ing shep­herds’ eyes.

Haste we, then, this birth­day morn­ing,
To the Beth­le­hem cat­tle shed;
Heed we not, tho’ scant adorn­ing
Deck the low­ly man­ger bed;
Though man’s flesh­ly form He wear­eth,
In His birth­place bare,
He th’eter­nal king­dom shar­eth;
Christ Him­self is cra­dled there.

Offer we in plen­te­ous mea­sure
Gold and gem and cost­ly spice;
If our hearts at­tend our trea­sure
He’ll ac­cept the sac­ri­fice:
If to Him our life be giv­en,
Raised from earth our eyes,
He will grant us rest in Hea­ven,
In His rest—in pa­ra­dise.