(Edmund H. Sears (1810-1876), 1849)


It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious song of old,

From angels bending near the earth

With news of joy foretold,

"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.


Still through the cloven skies they come,

Love's banner all unfurled;

And still their heavenly music floats

Over all the weary world.

Above its sad and lowly plains

Old echoes plaintive ring,

And ever over its Babel sounds

The blessed angels sing.


Yet 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.


O ye, 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;

O rest beside the weary road

And hear the angels sing.


For lo! the days are hastening on,

By prophets seen of old,

When with the ever-circling years

Shall come the time foretold,

When the new heaven and earth shall own

The Prince of Peace their King,

And the whole world send back the song

Which now the angels sing