Come, shep­herds, come! shake off your sleep,
And ope your wea­ry eyes;
’Tis time to leave your fold­ed sheep,
Come, shep­herds, come, arise!
Hark! an­gels clad in bright ar­ray,
Burst forth in heav’n­ly song;
See! night grows bright­er than the day,
Lit by their glist­en­ing throng.

Around the hut where­in I slept
A gleam of light was seen.
And gold­en strings of harps were swept
By an­gels clad in sheen.
What sounds of joy the air then stirred!
What hymns of ho­ly rest!
In ter­ra pax above I heard
And Chris­tus na­tus est.

We, too, this wel­come news did hear
From an­gels in the air,
They bade us cast away all fear,
And to the town re­pair.
We hast­ened to the hum­ble stall,
The ho­ly Child we sought;
On bend­ed knee each one did fall,
And hum­ble of­fer­ings brought.

Then know, all friends, who wish to see
Your sweet Re­deem­er’s face,
Though long, the way full short will be,
If ye but ask His grace.
No thorns your fait­hful steps shall stay
And light will shine around;
All doubts and fears will pass away
When Je­sus Christ is found.