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 heaven's all gracious King.
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.

Oh ye beneath lifes crushing loads,
Whos forms are bending low,
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.

For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When, with the ever-circling years,
Shall come the time foretold;
And all the world sings back the song
Which now the angels sing.