Music I love——but never strain Could kindle¹ raptures² so divine, So grief assuage³, so conquer pain, And rouse this pensive⁴ heart of mine—— As that we hear on Christmas morn, Upon the wintry breezes borne.

    Though Darkness still her empire keep, And hours must pass, ere morning break； From troubled dreams, or slumbers⁵ deep, That music KINDLY⁶ bids us wake： It calls us, with an angel's voice, To wake, and worship, and rejoice；

    To greet with joy the glorious morn, Which angels welcomed long ago, When our redeeming⁷ Lord was born, To bring the light of Heaven below； The Powers of Darkness to dispel⁸, And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.

    While listening to that sacred strain, My raptured⁹ spirit soars on high； I seem to hear those songs again Resounding¹⁰ through the open sky, That kindled¹¹ such divine delight, In those who watched their flocks by night.

    With them I celebrate His birth—— Glory to God, in highest Heaven, Good-will to men, and peace on earth, To us a Saviour-king is given； Our God is come to claim His own, And Satan's power is overthrown¹²！

    A sinless God, for sinful men, Descends¹³ to suffer and to bleed； Hell MUST renounce¹⁴ its empire then； The price is paid, the world is freed, And Satan's self must now confess That Christ has earned a RIGHT to bless：

    Now holy Peace may smile from heaven, And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring： The captive's galling¹⁵ bonds are riven, For our Redeemer is our king； And He that gave his blood for men Will lead us home to God again.