1 The happy Christmas comes once more,
The heav'nly Guest is at the door,
The blessed words the shepherds thrill,
The joyous tidings: Peace, good-will.

2 The lowly Savior meekly lies.
Lays off the splendor of the skies;
No crown bedecks His forehead fair,
No pearl, nor gem, nor silk is there.

3 No human glory, might and gold,
The lovely Infant's form enfold;
The manger and the swaddlings poor
Are His, whom angels' songs adore.

4 O holy Child, Thy manger gleams
Till earth and heav'n glow with its beams,
Till midnight hath noon's brightness won,
And Jacob's Star outshines the sun.

5 Thou patriarchs' joy, Thou prophets' song,
Thou heavenly Day-spring looked for long,
Thou Son of Man, incarnate Word,
Great David's Son, great David's Lord!

6 Come, Jesus, glorious heavenly guest,
Keep Thine own Christmas in our breast;
Then David's harp string, hushed so long,
Shall swell our jubilee of song.