The happy Christmas comes once more,
The heavenly Guest is at the door,
The blessèd words the shepherds thrill,
The joyous tidings,
Peace, good will.
This world, though wide and far outspread,
Could scarcely find for You a bed.
Your cradle was a manger stall,
No pearl nor silk nor kingly hall.
O let us go with quiet mind,
The gentle Babe with shepherds find,
To gaze on Him who gladdens them,
The loveliest flower of Jesse’s stem.
The lowly Savior meekly lies,
Laid off the splendor of the skies;
No crown bedecks His forehead fair,
No pearl, nor gem, nor silk is there.
O wake, our hearts, in gladness sing,
And keep our Christmas with our King,
Till living song, from loving souls,
Like sound of mighty water rolls.
O holy Child, Thy manger gleams
Till earth and heaven glow with its beams,
Till midnight noon’s broad light hath won,
And Jacob’s star outshines the sun.
Thou patriarchs’ joy, Thou prophets’ song,
Thou heavenly Dayspring, looked for long,
Thou Son of Man, incarnate Word,
Great David’s Son, great David’s Lord.
Come, Jesus, glorious heavenly Guest,
Keep Thine own Christmas in our breast,
Then David’s harp strings, hushed so long,
Shall swell our jubilee of song.