1 O what a blessed morn,
That brought the news from heav'n!
To us a child is born--
To us a Son is given!
The sweetest news that ever came;
We'll sing through all the world should blame.

2 The long-expected morn
Has dawned upon the earth
The Saviour Christ is born,
And angels sing His birth:
We'll join the bright, seraphic throng,
We'll share their joys, and swell their song.

3 O! 'tis a lofty theme,
Supplied by angel-tongues!
All other objects seem
Unworthy of our songs.
This sacred theme has boundless charms,
It fills, it captivates, it warms.

4 Now sing of peace divine,
Of grace to guilty man;
No wisdom, Lord, but thine,
Could form the wond'rous plan;
Where peace and righteousness embrace,
And justice reigns along with grace.

5 Give praise to God on high,
With angels round His throne;
Give praise to God with joy;
Give praise to God alone!
'Tis meet His saints their songs should raise,
And give the Saviour endless praise.