In this our happy Christmastide

1 In this our happy Christmastide
The joyful bells are ringing;
To praise be all our pow'rs applied,
God's grace and mercy singing;
In Him by whom the world was made,
Now in the lowly manger laid,
Rejoice we in the spirit;
Thy praise, O Savior, we will sound
Unto the earth's remotest bound,
That all the world shall hear it.

2 A little Son, the Virgin-born,
True God from everlasting
To rescue us who were forlorn,
His lot with us is casting;
It moved His tender heart to see
This world of sin and misery
In condemnation lying;
Therefore He came from realms above
Down to our earth, drawn by His love,
To sooth our grief and sighing.

3 Our thanks we offer Him today,
Although a poor oblation,
Alleluia! our joyful lay,
Shall sound through ev'ry nation;
Now in our camp the Ark we see,
Therefore we shout the victory
With joyful hearts unfearing;
We sing of peace, the peace profound,
That hell shall tremble at the sound,
Our Christmas anthem hearing.

4 That God has laid His anger by,
He by His gift hath shown us;
He gives His Son for us to die,
In Him He now doth own us;
These joyful tidings tell abroad,
That Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
From sin doth us deliver;
Who then should not be glad today
When Christ is born, the sinners' stay,
Who is of grace the giver?

5 As darkest night must fade and die
Before the sun's appearing,
So fades my grief away, when I
Think on these tidings cheering,
That God from all eternity
Hath loved the world, and hath on me
Bestowed His grace and favor;
I'll ne'er forget the angels' strain:
Peace--peace on earth, good will to men,
To you is born a Savior!

6 Although my joyful Christmas lay
Is mingled with my sighing,
The cross shall never take away
My joy and praise undying;
For when the heart is most opprest,
The harp of joy is tuned the best,
The better strains are ringing,
The cross itself, at Jesus' will,
Must aid my soul, that I may still
In grief His praise be singing.

7 Alleluia! our strife is o'er,
Who, then, should pine in sadness?
Who now should grieve in anguish sore
In these our days of gladness?
Thou Church of God, O sing this morn:
To us is Christ the Savior born,
O joy that none can sever!
Alleluia! sing thou my heart,
Now Christ is mine, I can depart
To be with Him forever.

Source: Evangelical Lutheran Hymnary #150