A Hymn for Christmas Day

With them the joyful tidings first begun
Of God incarnate, and the Virgin's Son:
Then to the watchful shepherds it was told,
Who heard th' Angelic Herald's voice- Behold!
I bring good tidings of a Saviour's birth
Το you, and all the nations upon earth;
This day hath God fulfill'd his promised word;
This day is born a Saviour, Christ, the Lord:
In David's city, shepherds, ye shall find
The long-foretold Redeemer of mankind,
Wrapt up in swaddling-clothes, the Babe divine
Lies in a manger; this shall be the sign.'

JOHN BYROM

60. A HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS DAY

ARK, the glad sound! the Saviour comes,
The Saviour promised long;

Let every heart prepare a throne,

And every voice a song!

He comes, the prisoners to release

In Satan's bondage held;

The gates of brass before Him burst,

The iron fetters yield.

He comes, the broken heart to bind,
The bleeding soul to cure,

And with the treasures of His

T'enrich the humble poor.

grace

61.

A Hymn for Christmas Day

Our glad Hosannas, Prince of Peace,
Thy welcome shall proclaim,
And heaven's eternal arches ring

With Thy belovèd name.

PHILIP DODDRIDGE

A HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS DAY

ARK! how all the welkin rings,

HA

Glory to the King of kings!
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!

Joyful, all ye nations, rise,

Join the triumph of the skies;
Universal nature say,

Christ the Lord is born to-day.

Christ, by highest Heaven adored;
Christ, the Everlasting Lord;
Late in time behold Him come,
Offspring of a Virgin's womb;
Veil'd in flesh the Godhead see;
Hail, th' Incarnate Deity!

Pleased as man with men t' appear,
Jesus, our Immanuel here!

Hail! the heavenly Prince of Peace!
Hail! the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Risen with healing in His wings.

62.

A Hymn for Christmas Day
Mild He lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth,

Born to give them second birth.

CHARLES WESLEY

THE SHEPHERDS WENT THEIR
HASTY WAY

THER

'HE shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly stable-shed,

Where the virgin-mother lay;

And now they checked their eager tread, For to the Babe, that at her bosom clung, A mother's song the virgin-mother sung.

They told her how a glorious light,
Streaming from a heavenly throng,
Around them shone, suspending night!
While sweeter than a mother's song,
Blest angels heralded the Saviour's birth,
Glory to God on high! and peace on earth!

She listened to the tale divine,

And closer still the Babe she pressed;
And while she cried, The Babe is mine!
The milk rushed faster to her breast:

Joy rose within her, like a summer's morn;
Peace, peace on earth! the Prince of Peace is born.

The Shepherds went their Hasty Way

Thou mother of the Prince of Peace,
Poor, simple, and of low estate!
That strife should vanish, battle cease,

O why should this thy soul elate?

Sweet music's loudest note, the poet's story,Didst thou ne'er love to hear of fame and glory?

And is not War a youthful king,

A stately hero clad in mail? Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;

Him earth's majestic monarchs hail

Their friend, their playmate ! and his bold bright eye Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh.

'Tell this in some more courtly scene

To maids and youths in robes of state! I am a woman poor and mean,

And therefore is my soul elate.

War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled,
That from the aged father tears his child.

A murderous fiend by fiends adored, He kills the sire and starves the son; The husband kills, and from her board Steals all his widow's toil had won; Plunders God's world of beauty; rends away All safety from the night, all comfort from the day.

The Shepherds went their Hasty Way

Then wisely is my soul elate,

That strife should vanish, battle cease; I'm poor and of a low estate,

The mother of the Prince of Peace.

Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn :

Peace, peace on earth! the Prince of Peace is born.'

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

63. FROM OTTFRIED'S PARAPHRASE OF THE GOSPEL

HE gave with joy her virgin breast;

SHE

She hid it not, she bared the breast

Which suckled that divinest Babe!
Blessed, blessed were the breasts
Which the Saviour Infant kiss'd;

And blessed, blessed was the mother

Who wrapp'd His limbs in swaddling clothes,

Singing placed Him on her lap,

Hung o'er Him with her looks of love,
And soothed Him with a lulling motion.
Blessed! for she shelter'd Him

From the damp and chilling air;

Blessed, blessed! for she lay

With such a Babe in one blest bed,
Close as babes and mothers lie!
Blessed, blessed evermore,

With her virgin lips she kiss'd,