 | The forest minstrel |  |
110
HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS.
Hail! holy morn, above all others blessed,
Day heralded by angels from above,
With hymns of glory unto God on high,
And promises to men of peace and love.
Day heralded by angels from above,
With hymns of glory unto God on high,
And promises to men of peace and love.
Hail, holy morning! Birthday of the King
Of Life, of Peace, and Glory! Joy to earth!
We come with palms, and songs, and offerings,
To keep the festival of Jesus' birth.
Of Life, of Peace, and Glory! Joy to earth!
We come with palms, and songs, and offerings,
To keep the festival of Jesus' birth.
When first upon the dark chaotic mass
Moved God's Creative Spirit, bringing forth
Order, and light, and beauty, and young life,
'Till in its orbit hung the perfect Earth;—
Moved God's Creative Spirit, bringing forth
Order, and light, and beauty, and young life,
'Till in its orbit hung the perfect Earth;—
When scents and colours in the flowers had birth,
And myriad forms of life began to move;
When in his Maker's image man was made,
In beauty perfect, animate with love;
And myriad forms of life began to move;
When in his Maker's image man was made,
In beauty perfect, animate with love;
Then heaven was vocal with the choral hymn
Of radiant morning stars, and this glad earth
Echoed the shouts with which the sons of God
Poured forth their wondering joy at Nature's birth.
Of radiant morning stars, and this glad earth
Echoed the shouts with which the sons of God
Poured forth their wondering joy at Nature's birth.
111
If there was such rejoicing, when a world
Was born to death, and man to guilt and wo,
What songs, what joy should hail the better morn
That saw Immanuel cradled here below!
Was born to death, and man to guilt and wo,
What songs, what joy should hail the better morn
That saw Immanuel cradled here below!
Ay, cradled in a manger,—sleeping there
The soft unconscious sleep of infancy,
Watched by his fair young mother's dewy eyes,
While angels sung the Christ's nativity.
The soft unconscious sleep of infancy,
Watched by his fair young mother's dewy eyes,
While angels sung the Christ's nativity.
Glory to God! in highest, gladdest strains,—
Peace upon earth, and good will unto men!
“Glory to God!” the holy seraphs sung,
“Glory to God!” let earth reply again.
Peace upon earth, and good will unto men!
“Glory to God!” the holy seraphs sung,
“Glory to God!” let earth reply again.
Joy to the world! The Babe of Bethlehem
Is now the King of glory, throned above;
He has redeemed his people from their sins,
With mighty sufferings, and surpassing love.
Is now the King of glory, throned above;
He has redeemed his people from their sins,
With mighty sufferings, and surpassing love.
Oh! come, and let us worship, bending low
With tearful penitence, and humble joy;
Let every heart adore, and every voice
Hymn forth a song of grateful melody.
With tearful penitence, and humble joy;
Let every heart adore, and every voice
Hymn forth a song of grateful melody.
Come to his temple, where the living greens
Are twined to do him honour; where his name
Swells on the pealing anthem, till all hearts
Are full of heaven—devotion's ardent flame.
Are twined to do him honour; where his name
Swells on the pealing anthem, till all hearts
Are full of heaven—devotion's ardent flame.
Come to his holy temple—He is there,
To bless the souls that seek him. Let us bring
Our evergreen faith, hope, and charity,
In humble offering. Let us kneel and sing:—
To bless the souls that seek him. Let us bring
Our evergreen faith, hope, and charity,
In humble offering. Let us kneel and sing:—
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Hail, day of solemn gladness! Through all time
Highest and holiest. Angels shout again,
To you is born a Saviour, Christ, the Lord!
Glory to God!—Peace and good will to men!—
Highest and holiest. Angels shout again,
To you is born a Saviour, Christ, the Lord!
Glory to God!—Peace and good will to men!—
Saviour of man—Eternal Son of God,
Who once in Bethlehem's lowly manger lay,
Oh! throne thyself in every humble heart,
That comes to celebrate thy natal day!
Who once in Bethlehem's lowly manger lay,
Oh! throne thyself in every humble heart,
That comes to celebrate thy natal day!
| The forest minstrel | |