99 ~ It Came Upon the Midnight Clear
1
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.
2
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.
3
And 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; O rest beside the weary road, And hear the angels sing.