Sons of men, behold from far,
Hail the long-expected star;
Jacob’s star that gilds the night,
Guides bewildered nature right.
Fear not hence that ill should flow,
Wars or pestilence below,
Wars it bids and tumults cease,
Ushering in the Prince of Peace.
Mild it shines on all beneath,
Piercing through the shades of death;
Scattering error’s wide-spread night,
Kindling darkness into light.
Nations all, remote and near,
Haste to see your God appear:
Haste, for Him your hearts prepare,
Meet Him manifested there.
There behold the Day-spring rise,
Pouring light upon your eyes:
See it chase the shades away,
Shining to the perfect day.
Sing, ye morning stars again,
God descends on earth to reign,
Deigns for man His life to employ;
Shout, ye sons of God, for joy.