It came upon a 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 heaven’s all-gracious love!
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O’er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing.
And ever o’er its babble sounds
The blessed angels sing.
Yet with the woes of sorrow and strife
The world hath suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
These thousand years of wrong;
And we, at war ourselves, hear not
The love song which they bring:
O hush the noise, all ye of strife,
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 Age of Gold;
When peace shall over all the Earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And all the world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.