AWAKE, my soul! thy dormant fire!
Let Love, let Gratitude inspire,
A heaven-directed lay!
To HIM who brought salvation down,
Who wan for man th' eternal crown,
The heart's pure homage pay.
How poor! how abject! how forlorn!
The long-predicted Babe was born,
The LORD OF LIFE was found!
A manger proved his princely bed,
And straw sustain'd his sacred head,
While oxen breath'd around.
In mild Judea's midnight air
The shepherds tend their fleecy care,
All simple men and true;
Far from the temple's wordy war,
From doctors, and from priests, afar,
To them the vision flew.
"Hail, Shepherds! hail!" an angel cries, "We bring glad tidings from the skies, "A gospel-message bring;
"This is the Saviour's natal morn, "In Bethlehem the Babe is born, "Arise! salute your king."
The angels fade from mortal view,
And mingle with th' ethereal blue
That veils their native skies;
But still their anthems are preferr'd,
Faint and more faint their harps are heard,
Sweet harps of Paradise.
T' unnerve the strong, confirm the weak, Abash the proud, and cheer the meek, The GREAT MESSIAH reigns;
And the first-fruit of subject earth,
The first to hail MESSIAH's birth,
Where lowly shepherd-swains.
Rejoice, O Judah! shout amain!
Trim thy perennial palm again,
Thy palm of high renown;
Thy LION comes! he comes to save!
Bid his triumphant banners wave;
Prepare his victor-crown;
He comes; in GoD's appointed might
He comes; dark demons dread his light,
And tremble at his name;
Drops their pale priest the palsied hand,
Untouch'd their flower-wreath'd victims stand,
And dies their altar's flame.
To Palestine's sequester'd shore,
The Lord of ev'ry clime no more
His light, his love confines;
But widely as the ocean flows,
As beams the sun, or zephyr blows,
The star of Jesus shines.
Unseen by Herod on his throne,
Not to the great Sanhedrim known,
It shone, but not for them:
Yet, by its splendor drawn from far,
The Magi hail th' unwonted star,
And hie to Bethlehem.
Their costly gifts when they display'd'
The Gentile-world its tribute paid,
And own'd its Infant-king:
And, Gentile-sprang, in isles afar,
We hail the bright, the MORNING-STAR,
And glad Hosannas sing.
O THOU! on whose blest natal day
Th' angelic chorus sang a lay
Of peace to mortals given;
That peace Thou liv'dst, Thou diedst to give, That peace prepare us to receive,
For in that PEACE is HEAVEN.
WHOM SHILOH's bondage hath made free,
Ye ransom'd Captives, come!
Come, an heart-rending sight to see,
And meekly bend the suppliant knee
your REDEEMER'S tomb.
Still let the deep, mysterious theme,
Our prostrate souls engross :
What reason oft may darkest deem,
Faith radiates with her brightest beam,
The rod, the spear, the cross.
Ye men! who saw on tabor's brow
Your glorious LORD appear!
On Calvary bid your tears to flow,
Shorn every beam of glory now,
A dread eclipse is there.
Despite, the blinded Jews have done
To Him who reigns on high;
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