It Came Upon A Midnight Clear - Tommee Profitt, Brooke

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.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife

The world has suffered long;

Beneath the angel-strain have rolled

Two thousand years of wrong;

And man, at war with man, hears not

The love-song which they bring;

O hush the noise, ye men of strife,

And hear the angels sing.

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!

For lo, the days are hastening on,

By prophet bards foretold,

When with the ever-circling years

Shall come the age of gold

When peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendors fling,

And all the world give back the song

Which now the angels sing.

Glory to God

Glory in our heart