O love­ly voic­es of the sky,
That hymned the Sav­ior’s birth,
Are ye not sing­ing still on high,
Who once sang peace on earth?
Still o’er us float those ho­ly strains
Wherewith in days gone by,
Ye blessed the lowly Sy­ri­an swain,
O voic­es of the sky!

O clear and shin­ing light, whose beams
A heav’n­ly ra­di­ance shed
Around the palms, and o’er the streams
And on the shep­herd’s head;
Be near thro’ life, be near in death,
As in that ho­li­est night
Of hope, of glad­ness, and of faith,
O clear and shin­ing light.

O star, which led’st to Him whose love
Brought down man’s ran­som, free,
Thou still art midst the hosts above:
We still may gaze on thee!
In Heav’n thy light doth ne­ver set,
Thy rays earth may not dim;
Oh, send them forth to guide us yet,
Bright star which led to Him.