The Nativity

Beneath the dark

ex­pect­ant skies

While crowd­ed Beth­le­hem slept

Their sleep­ing flocks in qui­et fields

The faith­ful shep­herds kept;

When round about them

sud­den­ly

There shone a glo­ri­ous light

And in the midst an an­gel stood

Majestical and bright.

What mor­tal eye could look un­dazed!

What mor­tal ear could hear

The voice most sweet

most ter­ri­ble

In sweet­ness

with­out fear?

While on the wide Ju­de­an hills

The rev­er­ent winds were stayed

Prostrate the hum­ble shep­herds fell

For they were sore afraid.

Fear not; be­hold

I bring you joy!

The an­gel spake and smiled;

To you this day in Da­vid’s town

Is born the pro­mised Child;

A Sav­ior

even Christ the Lord

And this shall be the sign—

Ye in a man­ger low­ly laid

Shall find the Ba­be divine.

And with the an­gel

lo! a host

Of shin­ing ones was seen

Chanting

All glo­ry be to God

As it hath ev­er been;

Glory to God

on earth be peace

And un­to men good will

They sang

in splen­dor van­ish­ing

And all grew dark and still.

Amazed the shep­herds heard

and rose

And made with haste their way

To where

within the sta­ble walls

The world’s Re­deem­er lay;

Nor wid­er space nor fair­er place

Had earth to spare for Him

Whose throne from ev­er­last­ing burned

Rayed round with se­ra­phim.

While soft­ly rain­ing out of Heav’n

In sil­ver ca­denc­es

Flowed down those sweet an­gel­ic strains

Proclaiming joy and peace;

Her rap­ture swell­ing in­to tears

The trem­bling mo­ther bent

Above her Child

her ho­ly One

In awe and won­der­ment.

And if a cloud of ra­di­ance

Filled up the ho­ly place

That cloud was dark­ness in her eyes

Long-dwell­ing on His face;

Her tranc­èd vi­sion scarce with­drawn

When glad the shep­herds came

Beheld the Babe and glo­ri­fied

The one eter­nal Name.

And was the Word

in­deed

made flesh?

O Everlasting Lord!

O Prince of Peace! O migh­ty God

Forevermore ad­ored!

Who reck­on­ing un­reck­oned bliss

Cast all His glo­ry by

When from the pri­son house of sin

He heard the cap­tive cry!

O Love

that no cre­at­ed love

Can ev­er com­pre­hend

Outreaching life’s dark ut­ter­most

It bound the end­less end;

It con­des­cend­ed to the low

From height above all height

And bo­somed in a blame­less babe

Brought in­to dark­ness light!

Wherever Christ­mas bells shall chime

And Christ­mas cheer go round

Be grate­ful joy—not heed­less mirth—

In ev­ery dwell­ing found;

While faith un­veils her throb­bing breast

And clos­er folds with­in

The Ho­ly Child whose sin­less­ness

Hath an­swered once for sin.

The hum­blest home that He may find

The poor­est heart of earth

Not mean­er is than Beth­le’m’s stall

Made fair by Je­sus’ birth;

And light more mar­vel­ous shall stream

Into that house of clay

Abiding and ab­ound­ing more

Unto the per­fect day.

Comfort to an­swer all de­sire

And soothe the sharp­est pain

A rest to wea­ri­ness

and ease

To such as do com­plain;

Bread to the hung­ry

and to them

That thirst a liv­ing well

The Sav­ior with His need­iest ones

Doth most de­light to dwell.

He hon­or­eth not the place of pride

But seek­eth low­ly doors

And love

the sweet re­turn of love

Is all that He im­plores;

The love that wait­ing on His word

Doth ev­er­more in­crease

And mag­ni­fy in dai­ly life

The an­gels’ song of peace.

Wherever Christ­mas greet­ings flow

And Christ­mas cheer goes round

Let char­ity in gra­cious deeds

And gra­cious thoughts abound;

And Zi­on

gar­land­ing her gates

Put on her glad ar­ray

And ce­le­brate with palms of joy

Emmanuel’s na­tal day.

O Christ most high! In­car­nate God!

Meek Babe of Beth­le­hem!

To whom all an­gels cry aloud

Thy glo­ry sha­dow­ing them

Hear

through the praise of Heav’n

the praise

Of Thy re­deem­èd earth

Whose des­ert plac­es yet shall sing

For joy of Je­sus’ birth!