The scene around me disappears,
And borne to ancient regions,
While time recalls the flight of years,
I see angelic legions
Descending in an orb of light,
Amidst the dark and silent night,
I hear celestial voices.
Tidings, glad tidings, from above,
To every age and nation;
Tidings, glad tidings, God is love;
To man He sends salvation;
His Son beloved, His only Son,
The work of mercy hath begun;
Give to His name the glory.
Through David’s city I am led;
Here all around are sleeping;
A light directs to yon poor shed,
Where lonely watch is keeping;
I enter—ah! what glories shine!
Is this Immanuel’s earthly shrine?
Messiah’s infant temple?
It is, it is; and I adore
This Stranger meek and lowly,
As saints and seraphs bow before
The throne of God thrice holy;
Faith through the veil of flesh can see
The face of Thy divinity,
My Lord, my God, my Savior!