It Came Upon the Midnight Clear

1 It came upon the midnight clear,

    that glorious song of old,

    from angels bending near the earth

    to touch their harps of gold:

    "Peace on the earth, good will to all,

    from heav'n's all-gracious king."

    The world in solemn stillness lay

    to hear the angels sing.

2 Still through the cloven skies they come

    with peaceful wings unfurled,

    and still their heav'nly music floats

    o'er all the weary world.

    Above its sad and lowly plains

    they bend on hov'ring wing,

    and ever o'er its babel sounds

    the blessed angels sing.

3 And you, beneath life’s crushing load,

    whose forms are bending low,

    who toil along the climbing way

    with painful steps and slow:

    look now, for glad and golden hours

    come swiftly on the wing;

    oh, rest beside the weary road

    and hear the angels sing!

4 For lo! The days are hast’ning on,

    by prophets seen of old,

    when with the ever-circling years

    shall come the time foretold,

    when peace shall over all the earth

    its ancient splendors fling,

    and all the world give back the song

    which now the angels sing.

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