1 The shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly stable shed
Where the virgin mother lay:
Now they checked their eager tread,
For to the Babe that to her clung,
A mother’s song the virgin sung.
2 They told her how a glorious light,
Far streaming from a heavenly throng.
Round them shone, suspending night!
While more sweet than mother’s song,
Blest angels hailed the Savior’s birth;
Glory to God, and peace on earth.
3 She listened to the tale divine,
And closer still the Babe she pressed;
While she cried, "The Babe is mine!"
Mother love o’erflowed her breast:
Joy rose within her, like summer’s morn;
Peace, peace on earth; its Prince is born.
4 "Then," cried she, "is my soul elate,
That strife should vanish, battle cease;
Poor am I, of low estate,
Mother of the Prince of Peace.
Joy rises in me like summer’s morn";
Peace, peace on earth; its Prince is born.