The time by Hea­ven fore­told is come,
The year of Ju­bi­lee;
The day which kings and saints so long
So much de­sired to see.

He’s come, the migh­ty Sav­ior’s come;
Hear and re­joice, thou earth;
Let ev­ery tongue the globe around
Hail the Re­deem­er’s birth.

Glory to God on high be giv­en,
For peace to earth is brought!
Good will to wretch­ed, dy­ing men
Surpassing hu­man thought.

See where the roy­al In­fant lies,
In no rich bed of state,
A sta­ble and a man­ger hold
This migh­ty Po­ten­tate.

There ’twas the won­der­ing shep­herds found
Their Sav­ior and their king:
There too let us be­hold Him laid,
And whilst we won­der, sing.

The Fa­ther’s match­less love we praise,
We sing the Sav­ior’s grace;
In mor­tal flesh ar­rayed the Son
Assumes the ser­vant’s place.

Not tongues of men, nor an­gels’ songs
Can His abase­ment tell;
He dies up­on th’accursèd tree
To save our souls from hell.

O how shall I such love re­quite?
My words are all too weak;
Lord, may each action of my life
Thy last­ing hon­ors speak.

Glory to God on high be giv’n,
For peace to earth is brought!
Good will to wretch­ed, dy­ing men
Surpassing hu­man thought.