1 The anthem the angels were singing,
O’er Bethlehem’s plains long ago,
Still down through the ages ringing,
The comfort of millions below;
The anthem of joy and salvation,
Of love to a sin-stricken race,
To every kindred and nation,
Good will from the Father of peace.
2 The star which the wise men were guiding,
O’er far distant lands long ago,
Is still in the heavens abiding,
The holy child Jesus to show;
Inviting the world to adore Him,
To bow like the magi of old,
And cast down their treasures before Him,
The heart’s purest incense and gold.
3 We gather this festival evening,
Our Lord and our Savior to seek,
With garlands His temple adorning,
With praises His goodness to speak,
Far more than the shepherd or wise men
We long the dear Savior to see,
For He has said: "Suffer the children,
The children to come unto Me."