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 men,
From heav'n's all gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.

But with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long:
Beneath the angel strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong:
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love song which they bring:
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!

And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way,
With painful step and slow,
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

For lo! the days are hast’ning on
By prophets seen of old,
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold;
When the new heav'n and earth shall own
The prince of peace their King,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.