The an­gel host that sped last night,
Bearing the won­drous news afar,
Came in their ev­er-glo­ri­ous flight
Unto a slum­ber­ing lit­tle star.

Awake and sing, O star! they cried.
Awake and glo­ri­fy the morn!
Herald the tid­ings far and wide
He that shall lead His flock is born!

The lit­tle star awoke and sung
As on­ly stars in rap­ture may,
And pre­sent­ly where church bells hung
The joy­ous tid­ings found their way.

Awake, O bells! ’tis Christ­mas morn—
Awake and let thy mu­sic tell
To all man­kind that now is born
What Shep­herd loves His lamb­kins well!

Then rang the bells as fled the night
O’er dream­ing land and drows­ing deep,
And com­ing with the morn­ing light,
They called, my child, to you asleep.

Sweetly and ten­der­ly they spoke,
And lin­ger­ing round your lit­tle bed,
Their music plead­ed till you woke,
And this is what their mu­sic said:

Awake and sing! ’tis Christ­mas morn,
Whereon all earth sa­lutes her king!
In Beth­le­hem is the Shep­herd born.
Awake, O lit­tle lamb, and sing!

So, dear my child, kneel at my feet,
And with those voic­es from above
Share thou this ho­ly time with me,
The uni­ver­sal hymn of love.