“Shepherds, re­joice! lift up your eyes,
And send your fears away;
News from the re­gion of the skies,
Salvation’s born to­day.

“Jesus, the God whom an­gels fear,
Comes down to dwell with you;
Today He makes His en­trance here,
But not as mon­archs do.

“No gold, nor pur­ple swad­dling bands.
Nor roy­al shin­ing things;
A man­ger for His cra­dle stands,
And holds the King of kings.

Go, shep­herds, where the In­fant lies,
And see His hum­ble throne;
With tears of joy in all your eyes,
Go, shep­herds, kiss the Son.

Thus Ga­bri­el sang, and straight around
The heav’n­ly ar­mies throng;
They tune their harps to lof­ty sound,
And thus con­clude the song:

Glory to God that reigns above!
Let peace sur­round the earth!
Mortals shall know their ma­ker’s love,
At their Re­deem­er’s birth.

Lord! and shall an­gels have their songs,
And men no tunes to raise?
O may we lose these use­less tongues
When they for­get to praise!

Glory to God that reigns above,
That pi­tied us for­lorn;
We join to sing our mak­er’s love,
For there’s a Sav­ior born.