Scripture Verse

Today in the city of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:11


Paul Gerhardt (1607–1676)

Words: Paul Ger­hardt, Prax­is Pi­eta­tis Me­li­ca, 1656 (Fröh­lich soll mein Herze spring­en). Trans­lat­ed from Ger­man to Eng­lish by Ca­the­rine Wink­worth, Ly­ra Ger­ma­ni­ca (Lon­don & New York: George Newnes & Charles Scrib­ner’s Sons, 1855), pag­es 209–11.

Music: Eb­el­ing Jo­hann G. Ebe­ling, Geist­liche An­dach­ten 1666 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

Catherine Winkworth (1827–1878)


All my heart this night re­joic­es,
As I hear, far and near,
Sweetest an­gel voices;
Christ is born, their choirs are sing­ing,
Till the air, ev­ery­where,
Now their joy is ring­ing.

For it dawns—the pro­mised mor­row
Of His birth, who the earth
Rescues from her so­rrow.
God to wear our form des­cend­eth;
Of His grace to our race
Here His Son He send­eth.

Yea, so tru­ly for us car­eth,
That His Son, all we’ve done,
As our of­fer­ing bear­eth;
As our Lamb who, dy­ing for us,
Bears our load, and to God,
Doeth in peace re­store us.

Hark! a voice from yon­der man­ger,
Soft and sweet, doth en­treat,
Flee from woe and dan­ger;
Brethren, come; from all that grieves you
You are freed; all you need
I will sure­ly give you.

Come, then, let us hast­en yon­der;
Here let all, great and small,
Kneel in awe and won­der,
Love Him who with love is yearn­ing;
Hail the star that from far
Bright with hope is burn­ing.

Ye who pine in wea­ry sad­ness,
Weep no more, for the door
Now is found of glad­ness.
Cling to Him, for He will guide you
Where no cross, pain or loss
Can again be­tide you.

Hither come, ye hea­vy heart­ed;
Who for sin, deep with­in,
Long and sore have smart­ed;
For the poi­soned wounds you’re feel­ing
Help is near, One is here,
Mighty for their heal­ing!

Hither come, ye poor and wretch­ed:
Know His will is to fill
Every hand out­stretch­èd;
Here are rich­es with­out mea­sure,
Here for­get all re­gret,
Fill your hearts with trea­sure.

Blessèd Sav­ior, let me find Thee!
Keep Thou me close to Thee,
Cast me not be­hind Thee!
Life of life, my heart Thou still­est,
Calm I rest on Thy breast,
All this void Thou fill­est.

Heedfully my Lord I’ll cher­ish,
Live to Thee, and with Thee
Dying, shall not per­ish;
But shall dwell with Thee for ev­er,
Far on high, In the joy
That can al­ter ne­ver,