When all the world is white with snow,
Ten million tongues repeat
The tidings of the birth of Christ
In accents clear and sweet.
They fling the message to and fro
O’er frosty hills and dells,
Till every earthly ear has heard
The music of the bells.
They are the echoes of a voice
Still ringing through the night,
From blossom-bearing lands of sun
To lands of frozen white;
First heard on old Judea’s plain,
Where flocks and shepherds lay,
By time and distance multiplied
To welcome Christmas day.
For then a shepherd boy awoke
And rubbed his sleepy eyes,
And saw a star of wondrous light
Above him in the skies,
And, pointing to its glory, cried:
“All hail the Christmas morn!
Behold the star of Bethlehem —
The Prince of Peace is born!”
