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 heavens 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 wing,
 And ever o'er its Babel sounds
 The blessed angels sing.
 O ye beneath life's crushing load,
 Whose forms are bending low,
 Who toil along the climbing way
 With painful steps and slow;
 Look now, for glad and golden hours
 Come swiftly on the wing;
 Oh rest beside the weary road
 And hear the angels sing.
 For lo! the days are hastening on,
 By prophets seen of old,
 When with the ever-circling years
 Shall come the time foretold,
 When the new heaven and earth shall own
 The Prince of Peace, their King,
 And the whole world send back the song
 Which now the angels sing.