Blessèd night, when first that plain
Echoed with the joyful strain,
“Peace has come to earth again.”
Blessèd hills, that heard the song,
Of the glorious angel throng
Swelling all your slopes along.
Happy shepherds, on whose ear
Fell the tidings glad and clear,
“God to man is drawing near.”
Thus revealed to shepherds’ eyes
Hidden from the great and wise,
Entering earth in lowly guise:
We adore Thee as our King,
And to Thee our song we sing,
Our best offering to Thee bring,
Blessèd Babe of Bethlehem,
Owner of earth’s diadem,
Claim and wear the radiant gem
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