Now Lift the Carol

Now lift the car­ol

men and maids

Now wake ex­ult­ant sing­ing;

This day the Well of Life first sprang

Who shall de­clare His spring­ing?

It is the birth­day of our Peace;

This day for man the wea­ry

The ev­er­last­ing Son of God

Was born of bless­èd Ma­ry.

Noel! No­el!

Proclaim the Sav­ior’s birth;

He rais­es us to Heav­en

O hail His com­ing down to earth.

He was not born in such sweet days

As we of yore re­mem­ber;

’Twas not the sun­ny sum­mer time

Oh! ’twas the cold De­cem­ber:

As shines the sun above the snows

When na­ture’s life is ly­ing

Fast bound in win­ter’s icy chain

So came He to the dy­ing.

He did not bring a roy­al train

A host no man might num­ber

Nor lay be­girt by da­mask folds

Nor lulled by harp to slum­ber.

Oh

He was wrapped in swath­ing bands

Whose might o’er­spans the Heav­en

And that mean trough where ox­en fed

For His first rest was giv­en.

There were poor shep­herds in the field

Their flocks at mid­night tend­ing;

Then Heav’n came down and brought for news

A rap­ture nev­er end­ing;

So they went swift to Beth­le­hem

And saw—and told the sto­ry

Of Christ the Lord

a lit­tle child

And an­gels sing­ing

Glo­ry.

Not in the man­ger lies He now;

Far o’er the sap­phire por­tal

At God’s right hand of pow­er He sits

Who was this day made mor­tal:

All in the high­est

ho­li­est place

Where there may dwell none oth­er

There our own man­hood sits en­throned

There is our el­der bro­ther.

The birthd­ay of our God and king—

Lo! we are called to greet Him;

The ev­er­last­ing Bride­groom comes

Oh

go ye out to meet Him.

This is the end of all be­low

The crown of love’s best sto­ry;

Christ stands and knocks—oh

hap­py souls

Receive the King of glo­ry.