Though Rude Winds Usher Thee, Sweet Day

Though rude winds ush­er thee

sweet day

Though clouds thy face de­form

Though na­ture’s grace be swept away

Before thy sleety storm;

E’en in thy som­brest win­try vest

Of bless­èd days thou art most blest.

Not fri­gid air nor gloomy morn

Shall check our ju­bi­lee;

Bright is the day when Christ was born;

No sun need shine

but He:

Let rough­est storms their cold­est blow

With love of Him our hearts shall glow.

Inspired with high and ho­ly thought

Fancy is on the wing;

It seems as to mine ear it brought

Those voices car­ol­ing

Voices through Heav’n and earth that ran

Glory to God

good­will to man.

I see the shep­herds gaz­ing wild

At those fair spir­its of light;

I see them bend­ing o’er the Child

With that un­told de­light

Which marks the face who view

Things but too hap­py to be true.

There in the low­ly man­ger laid

Incarnate God they see;

He stoops to take through spot­less maid

Our frail hu­man­ity;

Son of high God

cre­ation’s heir

He leaves His Heav­en to raise us here.

Through Him

O Lord

we’re born anew

Thy child­ren once again

Oh

day by day

our hearts re­new

That Thine we may re­main

And

ang­el-like

may all agree

One sweet and ho­ly fa­mi­ly.

Oft as this joy­ous morn doth come

To speak our Sav­ior’s love

Oh

may it bear our spir­its home

Where He now reigns above;

That day which brought Him from the skies

So man re­stores to para­dise.

Then let winds ush­er thee

sweet day

Let clouds thy face de­form

Though na­ture’s grace is swept away

Before thy sleety storm;

E’en i thy som­brest win­try vest

Of bless­èd days thou art most blest.