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From heaven above to earth I come,
To bear good news to every home;
Glad tidings of great joy I bring,
Whereof I now will say and sing.
To you, this night, is born a Child
Of Mary, chosen mother mild;
This tender Child of lowly birth,
Shall be the joy of all your earth.
’Tis Christ our God, who far on high
Had heard your sad and bitter cry;
Himself will your Salvation be,
Himself from sin will make you free.
He brings those blessings long ago
Prepared by God for all below;
That in His heavenly kingdom blest
You may with us forever rest.
These are the tokens ye shall mark,
The swaddling clothes
and manger dark;
There shall ye find
the young Child laid,
By Whom the heavens
and earth were made.
Now let us all, with gladsome cheer,
Follow the shepherds, and draw near
To see this wondrous Gift of God,
Who hath His own dear Son bestowed.
Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes!
What is it in yon manger lies?
Who is this Child, so young and fair?
The blessèd Christ Child lieth there!
Welcome to earth,
Thou noble Guest,
Through Whom e’en
wicked men are blest!
Thou com’st to share our misery,
What can we render, Lord, to Thee!
Ah, Lord, Who hast created all,
How hast Thou made
Thee weak and small,
To lie upon the coarse dry grass,
The food of humble ox and ass.
And were the world
ten times as wide,
With gold and jewels beautified,
It would be far too small to be
A little cradle, Lord, for Thee.
Thy silk and velvet are coarse hay,
Thy swaddling bands
the mean array,
With which even Thou,
a King so great,
Art clad as with a robe of state.
Thus hath it pleased Thee
to make plain
The truth to us,
poor fools and vain,
That this world’s honor,
wealth and might
Are naught and
worthless in Thy sight.
Ah, dearest Jesus, holy Child,
Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,
Here in my poor
heart’s inmost shrine,
That I may evermore be Thine.
My heart for very joy doth leap,
My lips no more can silence keep,
I too must sing, with joyful tongue,
That sweetest ancient cradle song.
Glory to God in highest Heaven,
Who unto man His Son hath given,
While angels sing, with pious mirth,
A glad New Year to all the earth.
---Alternative verses---
To you this night is born a child
Of Mary, chosen mother mild;
This little child, of lowly birth,
Shall be the joy of all your earth.
He brings those blessings, long ago
Prepared by God for all below;
Henceforth His kingdom open stands
To you, as to the angel bands.
Now let us all with gladsome cheer
Follow the shepherds, and draw near
To see this wondrous gift of God
Who hath His only Son bestowed.
Ah, Lord, who hast created all,
How hast Thou made Thee weak and small,
That Thou must choose Thy infant bed
Where ass and ox but lately fed!
Were earth a thousand times as fair,
Beset with gold and jewels rare,
She yet were far too poor to be
A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee.
For velvets soft and silken stuff
Thou hast but hay and straw so rough,
Whereon Thou King, so rich and great,
As 'twere Thy heaven, art throned in state.
Ah! dearest Jesus, Holy Child,
Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,
Within my heart, that it may be
A quiet chamber kept for Thee.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1531,1855
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Bible Refs:
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Lk 2:10;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1977 | # 219 | | 1998 | # 133 | | 1996 | # 124 | | 1983 | # 100 | | 1990 | # 54 | | 1971 | # 411 | | 1999 | # 296 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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THE ANGELS MESSAGE
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1539
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ALTERNATIVE TUNES
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Name
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meter
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| 8 8 8 8 (L.M.) |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
