Ring out a joy­ful chor­us,
In num­bers sweet, oh, earth!
Chant forth in loud ho­san­nas
Our roy­al Sav­ior’s birth.
Now ov­er mount and val­ley,
O’er for­est, hill and plain,
Awake the old, old sto­ry,
In lof­ti­est notes again.

Down through the van­ished ag­es,
Along the shores of time,
Like streams of sil­ve­ry beau­ty,
We hear its ech­oed chime.
Unnumbered si­lent voic­es
Have joined the glo­ri­ous hymn;
Glad eyes have caught its rap­ture,
Whose light in death is dim.

Today we stand with shep­herds,
Beneath Ju­de­an skies;
We hear from Heav’n’s high por­tals
Triumphant strains arise;
We watch the star whose bright­ness
Doth guide them safe­ly—where,
With deep­est awe and won­der,
They find Mes­si­ah there.

Within a low­ly man­ger
Straw cra­dles His dear head;
In po­ver­ty and suf­fer­ing
His in­fant tears were sh­ed.
Oh, earth! is this thy wel­come
To Christ, the King of Heav’n?
Is this the roy­al greet­ing
To your Re­deem­er giv’n?

’Tis said that since that mo­ment
A beau­ty hath been giv’n
To ba­by brows—a pure­ness
Touched with a trace of Heav’n.
That in sweet dreams the an­gels
Are o’er them night and day,
With whis­pers of rare glo­ry
That will not pass away.

That mo­ther­hood makes lov­ing
And ten­der mo­ther hearts;
To ev­en life’s rough plac­es
Deep gen­tle­ness im­parts.
Since, Ma­ry, on thy bo­som
The in­fant Sav­ior slept,
And thou, with love and bless­ing,
Thy first sweet watch­es kept.

With lov­ing, pa­tient spir­it,
Earth’s paths the Sav­ior trod;
With will­ing hands and toiling—
A man and yet a God.
In ev­ery call­ing faith­ful,
With miss­ion high and grand,
He passed away in tri­umph,
To reign at God’s right hand.

Dear Sav­ior! Ev­er ble­ssèd!
Upon this day of days
We come with loud ho­san­nas,
To swell the roy­al praise.
We look from earth­ly plac­es,
Where Thy pure feet have trod,
Up to Thy throne of pow­er,
Ascended Lord and God.

High wave Thy roy­al ban­ner
Across the wide, wide, world,
Today its folds of bright­ness
By loy­al hands un­furled.
It shel­ters well the house­hold;
It lights the far off shore,
And sounds the sil­very key-note,
That sum­mons to adore.

Float high, Ju­dea’s ban­ner!
O’er hosts of earth and Heav’n;
Display in clouds of beau­ty
The fade­less re­cord giv’n.
Wear well thy ho­li­est lus­ter,
That all the world may see,
Redeemer! Me­di­at­or!
The names that make us free.