It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old
From angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold
Peace on the earth, goodwill to men, from heaven's all gracious king
The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing
Still through the cloven skies they come with peaceful wings unfurl
And still their heavenly music floats, o'er all the weary world.
Above its sad and lowly plains they bend on hovering wing
And ever o'er its babel sounds the blessed angels sing