It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

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 through the cloven skies they come, 
With peaceful wings unfurl'd; 
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.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife 
The world (hath/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!

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.

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 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.