Scripture Verse

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. Luke 2:14

Introduction

Words: A. M. Mor­gan, 1866.

Music: Ar­thur Ar­thur H. Brown (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know Mor­gan’s full name, or where to get a good pic­ture of him (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

portrait
Arthur Brown (1830–1926)

Lyrics

Now lift the car­ol, men and maids,
Now wake ex­ult­ant sing­ing;
This day the Well of Life first sprang,
Who shall de­clare His spring­ing?
It is the birth­day of our Peace;
This day for man the wea­ry,
The ev­er­last­ing Son of God
Was born of bless­èd Ma­ry.

Refrain

Noel! No­el!
Proclaim the Sav­ior’s birth;
He rais­es us to Hea­ven,
O hail His com­ing down to earth.

He was not born in such sweet days,
As we of yore re­mem­ber;
’Twas not the sun­ny sum­mer time,
Oh! ’twas the cold De­cem­ber:
As shines the sun above the snows
When na­ture’s life is ly­ing
Fast bound in win­ter’s icy chain,
So came He to the dy­ing.

Refrain

He did not bring a roy­al train,
A host no man might num­ber,
Nor lay be­girt by da­mask folds,
Nor lulled by harp to slum­ber.
Oh, He was wrapped in swath­ing bands
Whose might o’er­spans the Hea­ven,
And that mean trough where ox­en fed,
For His first rest was giv­en.

Refrain

There were poor shep­herds in the field,
Their flocks at mid­night tend­ing;
Then Heav’n came down and brought for news,
A rap­ture ne­ver end­ing;
So they went swift to Beth­le­hem,
And saw—and told the sto­ry
Of Christ the Lord, a lit­tle child,
And an­gels sing­ing, Glo­ry.

Refrain

Not in the man­ger lies He now;
Far o’er the sap­phire por­tal
At God’s right hand of pow­er He sits
Who was this day made mor­tal:
All in the high­est, ho­li­est place,
Where there may dwell none oth­er,
There our own man­hood sits en­throned,
There is our el­der bro­ther.

Refrain

The birthd­ay of our God and king—
Lo! we are called to greet Him;
The ev­er­last­ing Bride­groom comes,
Oh, go ye out to meet Him.
This is the end of all be­low,
The crown of love’s best sto­ry;
Christ stands and knocks—oh, hap­py souls,
Receive the King of glo­ry.

Refrain