Now the joy­ful Christ­mas morn­ing,
Breaking o’er the world be­low,
Tells again the won­drous sto­ry
Of the Christ Child long ago.
Hark! we hear again the cho­rus
Echoing thro’ the star­ry sky,
And we join the heav’n­ly an­them,
Glory be to God on high!

Out of ev­ery clime and people,
Under ev­ery ho­ly name,
Is the ev­er­last­ing Gos­pel
Good and glad for aye the same;
So we, in our hap­py Christ­mas,
Breathe the uni­ver­sal creed,
Clasping hands with dist­ant ag­es
In a bro­ther­hood indeed.

Sing aloud, then, hearts and voic­es!
Shout, O new world, free and strong!
Hail of Light the death­less tri­umph,
Join the old world’s birth­day song—
Glory be to God the High­est!
Peace on earth, good will to men!
’Twas the morn­ing stars that pealed it—
Let the world re­spond again.