It Came Upon A Midnight Clear

It came upon the midnight clear. That glorious song of old. From angels bending

near the earth. To touch their harps of gold. Peace on the earth, goodwill to men.

From heaven's all gracious king. The world in solemn stillness lay. To hear the angels

sing. Still through the cloven skies they come. With peaceful wings

unfurled. And still their heavenly music floats. O'er all the weary world.

Above its sad and lowly plains. They bend on hovering wind. And ever o'er its

babel sounds. The blessed angels sing. Yet with the woes of sin and strife.

The world has suffered long. Beneath the angels' strain have rolled. Two thousand years