Peace and Good Will

Peace and good will

good will and peace!

Year after year with sweet in­crease

The heav’n­ly car­ol swells:

The ho­ly tale of Je­su’s birth

In ev­er wid­en­ing cir­cles earth

With tongues un­num­bered tells.

Once more the vi­sion glo­ri­fied

Appears with bless­èd Christ­mas­tide—

The vir­gin full of grace;

And in her arms the Child di­vine

The God-Man born of Da­vid’s line

New head of Ad­am’s race.

The ve­ry na­ture that we wear

His God­head veiled

He stoops to share

In great hu­mil­ity;

And an­gel le­gions round Him close

And Heav’n with bound­less praise o’er­flows

That such a love could be.

But nei­ther round His in­fant brow

The crown of thorns (pre-wov­en now)

Created eyes be­hold;

Nor in those in­fant arms that reach

In mute ap­peal

in lieu of speech

The cross those arms in­fold.

Yet crown of thorns and ho­ly rood

(The tree of life

the mys­tic wood)

His spot­less sac­ri­fice

His ang­uish and His tri­umph

all

Are sha­dowed here in Beth­le­hem’s stall

Though hid­den from our eyes.

Here

too

be­gins His won­drous reign;

Confessors

mar­tyrs

lead His train

Of hum­ble souls and pure;

Not of this world His king­dom is;

All oth­ers fade away

but His

Forever shall en­dure.

His sword is truth

His ar­mor love;

His Spir­it as a ten­der dove

Broods o’er this trou­bled life;

He pi­ties

par­dons

strength­ens

feeds;

He binds the break­ing heart that bleeds;

To peace trans­form­eth strife.

Where’er the Ma­rah wa­ters spring

Of want or wrong or suf­fer­ing

And men of Him en­treat

His cross all crim­soned with His blood

He casts in­to the bit­ter flood

And makes those wa­ters sweet.

Peace and good will

good will and peace!

What won­der that with glad in­crease

The heav’n­ly car­ol swells;

And on the sto­ry of His birth

In ever wid­en­ing cir­cles earth

With won­der­ing rap­ture dwells!