A Shepherd Band Their Flocks

A shep­herd band their flocks are keep­ing

And gen­tle lambs are sweet­ly sleep­ing;

When sud­den­ly they all be­hold

An ang­el in bright robes

with harp of gold.

Glad tid­ings of great joy he bring­eth

The az­ure vault with ant­hems ring­eth;

Immanuel awakes the song

And count­less hosts the glo­ri­ous theme pro­long.

To you

this day

is born a Sav­ior

Your pro­phet

priest and king for­ev­er;

All glo­ry be to God

they cry;

All glo­ry be to God

let earth re­ply.

On earth be peace with mer­cy blend­ing

Goodwill to men

and love un­end­ing;

Thus sweet­ly sing the ang­el throng

And all the heav’n­ly host re­hearse the song.

Through field and wood the song re­sound­eth

O’er hill and vale the chor­us bound­eth;

Exultingly the ech­oes roll

And hymns of tri­umph spread from pole to pole.

The shep­herds view the host re­turn­ing

Their hearts with ho­ly ar­dor burn­ing;

To Beth­le­hem they wend their way

Repeating with glad tongues th’an­gel­ic lay.

In haste they seek the heav’n­ly Strang­er;

They find the Babe laid in a man­ger;

With won­der and with awe they fall

And joy­ful­ly adore Him

Lord of all.

Now ev­ery voice with rap­ture swell­eth

For Christ the Lord with mor­tals dwell­eth;

Let men and ang­els Him ad­ore

And shout their loud ho­san­nas ev­er­more.