The blasts of chill December sound
The farewell of the year,
And night’s swift shadows gath’ring round
O’ercloud the soul with fear;
But rest you well, good Christian men,
Nor be of heart forlorn;
December’s darkness brings again
The Light of Christmas morn.
The welcome snow at Christmas-tide
Falls shining from the skies:
On village paths and uplands wide
All holy-white it lies;
It crowns with pearl the oaks and pines,
And glitters on the thorn,
And purer is the Light that shines
On gladsome Christmas morn.
‘Twas when the world was waxing old,
And night on Bethlehem lay,
The shepherds saw the heavens unfold
A light beyond the day;
Such glory ne’er had visited
A world with sin outworn;
But yet more glorious Light is shed
On happy Christmas morn.
Those shepherds poor, how blest were they
The angels’ song to hear!
In manger cradle as He lay,
To greet their Lord so dear!
The Lord of Heaven’s eternal height
For us a Child was born:
And He, the very Light of Light,
Shone forth that Christmas morn!
Before His Infant smile afar
Were driven the hosts of hell;
And still in souls that childlike are
His guardian Love shall dwell:
O then rejoice, good Christian men,
Nor be of heart forlorn;
December’s darkness brings again
The Light of Christmas morn.
