Blithely from the moat­ed church­yard
Ring the clear-voiced bells this morn;
While across the wa­vy land­scape,
Far away the mists are borne.
Pass away, ye clouds of sad­ness,
Every self­ish care de­part;
Grateful thoughts, and thoughts of glad­ness,
Ring from every Chris­tian heart.

Brightly in the ho­ly chan­cel
Leafy cir­cles in­ter­twine
Telling how in bless­èd Je­sus
Life and strength and joy com­bine.
As be­neath the arch we en­ter
Welcome words our com­ing bless,
For in Thee our hopes we cen­ter,
Christ, The Lord our Right­eous­ness.

In the nave each space is speak­ing
Of the light which Je­sus brought,
Of the free­dom and the glo­ry,
Which for all the world He wrought.
Wherefore, O ye con­gre­ga­tion,
Should your hearts be cold and dumb,
While the walls pro­claim sal­va­tion,
And, Arise, thy light is come.

Listen to the old-new mes­sage,
At the ho­ly table kneel;
Grudge not, when ye leave the tem­ple,
To dif­fuse the warmth ye feel.
Life has time enough for sad­ness,
Clouds too sel­dom pass away;
Only love and peace and glad­ness,
Should be named on Christ­mas Day.