A song was heard at Christmas to wake the midnight sky: a Saviour’s birth, and peace on earth, and praise to God on high. The angels sang at Christmas with all the hosts above, and still we sing the new-born King, his glory and his love.
A star was heard at Christmas, a herald and a sign, that all might know the way to go to find the child divine. The wise men watched at Christmas in some far eastern land, and still the wise in starry skies discern their Masker’s hand.
A tree was grown at Christmas, a sapling green and young; no tinsel bright with candlelight upon its branches hung. But he who came at Christmas our sins and sorrows bore, and still we name his tree of shame our life for evermore.
A child was born at Christmas when Christmas first began; the Lord of all a baby small, the Son of God made man. For love is ours at Christmas, and life and light restored, and so we praise through endless days the Saviour, Christ the Lord.