It came upon a midnight clear, that glorious song of old / From angels bending near the earth, to touch their harps of gold / Peace on earth, good will to men, from heaven's all gracious king / The world in solemn stillness lay, to hear the angels sing / Yet with the woes of sin and strife, the world has suffered long / Beneath the angel strain have rolled two thousand years of wrong / And man at war, with man, hears not the love song they bring / O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing / All ye, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low / Who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow / Look now! For glad and golden hours, come swiftly on the wing / O rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing / For lo! The days are hastening on, by prophet bards foretold / When with the ever circling years, comes round the age of gold / When peace shall over all the earth, its ancient splendors fling / And the whole world give back the song which now the angels sing