3 Now, ye saints, lift up your eyes, 353. Song of Angels. 1 Hark! the herald angels sing, "Glory to the new born King; Peace on earth and mercy mild; God and sinners reconcil'd." 2 Joyful all ye nations rise, Join the triumphs of the skies; With th' angelic host proclaim, "Christ is born in Bethlehem." 3 Mild he lays his glories by, Born that man no more may die; Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth. 4 Hail the heav'n born Prince of Peace Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to man he brings, Ris'n with healing in his wings. 1 Why lament the Christian dying? 4 Let that love veil our transgres Why indulge in tears or gloom? 2 What if death, with icy fingers, All the fount of life congeals? sions, Let that blood our guilt efface; Save thy people from oppressions, Save from spoil thy holy place. 35%. Song of Angels. 'Tis not there thy brother lingers, 1 Hark! what mean those holy voices "Tis not death his spirit feels. 3 Tho' for him thy soul is mourning, 4 Scenes seraphic, high and glorious, 5 Hark! the golden harpe are ring- Sounds unearthy fill his ear; Millions now in heaven singing, Greet his joyful entrance there. "Peace on earth, good will from Harps and voices loud resound; "Far as guilty man is found." 3 Christ is born, ye saints adore him, "Glory be to God most high!" |