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 heav'ns all gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
 
Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurl'd;
And still their heav'nly music floats
O'er all the weary world.
Above it's sad and lowly plains,
They bend on hov'ring wing;
And ever o'er it's Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.
 
For lo! the days are hast'ning on,
By prophets seen of old,
When with the ever-circling years
Shall come the time foretold.
When the new heav'n and earth shall own
The Prince of Peace, their King,
And the whole of world send back the song
Whic now the angels sing.