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Hark from on high those blissful strains

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Hark from on high those blissful strains!
Whence can such sweetness be?
Have angels waked their golden harps
With Heav�ns own minstrelsy?
With Heav�ns own minstrelsy?

Or do we hear the cherub voice
Of infant bands who raise,
Soaring from earth celestial notes
In their Creator�s praise?
In their Creator�s praise?

Thus spake the shepherds�yet with dread,
So strange the sounds they heard,
While o�er their slumb�ring flocks they kept
Their wonted nightly guard,
Their wonted nightly guard.

And soon they saw a dazzling light
Beam through the starry way,
And shining seraphs clust�ring where
The infant Jesus lay,
The infant Jesus lay.

They came a Savior�s birth to tell,
And tunes of rapture sing;
Hence the glad notes that filled the air�
Each swept his loudest string,
Each swept his loudest string.

But now in accents soft and kind
The chieftain angel said,
�Heav�ns tidings of great joy we bear�
Shepherds, be not afraid,
Shepherds, be not afraid.�