1 Now sing we, now rejoice,
Now raise to heaven our voice;
Lo! He from whom joy streameth
Poor in a manger lies;
Yet not so brightly beameth
The sun in yonder skies!
Thou my Savior art!
Thou my Savior art!

2 Given from on high to me
I cannot rise to Thee:
O cheer my wearied spirit:
O pure and holy Child,
Through Thy grace and merit,
Blest Jesus! Lord most mild,
Draw me after Thee!
Draw me after Thee!

3 Now through His Son doth shine
The Father's grace divine:
Death over us hath reignéd
Through sin and vanity:
The Son for us obtainéd
Eternal joy on high.
May we praise Him there!
May we praise Him there!

4 O where shall joy be found?
Where but on heavenly ground?
Where now the angels singing
With all His saints unite,
Sweetest praises bringing
In heavenly joy and light:
May we praise Him there!
May we praise Him there!