The Voice of the Christ Child

The earth has grown old with its bur­den of care

But at Christ­mas it al­ways is young;

And the soul of its mu­sic breaks forth on the air;

When the song of the an­gels is sung.

It is com­ing

old earth

it is com­ing tonight

On the snow­flakes which cov­er thy sod

And the voice of the Christ Child tells out with de­light

That we all can be child­ren of God.

On the sad and the lone­ly

the wretch­ed and poor

That voice of the Christ Child shall fall;

And to ev­ery blind wan­der­er op­ens the door

With a sun­shine and wel­come for all.

The feet of the hum­blest may walk in the field

Where the feet of the Hol­ie­st have trod

And this is the mar­vel to mor­tals re­vealed

That we all can be child­ren of God.