The first time that the skies grew bright,
When Hea­ven lay op­en wide,
And an­gels gleamed adown the night
Of one still coun­try­side;

’Twas when the al­mighty Heir of all
Came forth, a help­less child,
Amid the dark­ness of a stall,
And through our na­ture smiled.

Far down in Be­ing, but for­got
By none who watched afar.
Above the low­ly, hid­den spot
Was buoyed one float­ing star.

Then an­gels, up the heights of sky,
Flashed glo­ry with their shout,
And o’er the wide earth sleep­ing nigh,
Fell words of peace about.