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.
Still thru 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.
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 the new heav'n and earth shall own The Prince of Peace their King, And the whole world send back the song Which now the angels sing.