We hear the Christmas angels Our Lord Emmanuel! Phillips Brooks (1835-1893] A CHRISTMAS HYMN Old Style: 1837 It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might, And now was Queen of land and sea. Held undisturbed their ancient reign, 'Twas in the calm and silent night! His breast with thoughts of boundless sway; What recked the Roman what befell A paltry province far away, Within that province far away Went plodding home a weary boor: A streak of light before him lay, Fall'n through a half-shut stable door Across his path. He passed-for naught Told what was going on within; How keen the stars! his only thought; The air how calm and cold and thin, Centuries ago! Shepherds Watched Their Flocks O strange indifference!-low and high Drowsed over common joys and cares: One that shall thrill the world for ever! It is the calm and solemn night! A thousand bells ring out, and throw The darkness, charmed and holy now. For in that stable lay new-born The peaceful Prince of Earth and Heaven, Centuries ago. Alfred Domett [1811-1887] "WHILE SHEPHERDS WATCHED THEIR FLOCKS BY NIGHT" WHILE shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground, The angel of the Lord came down, And glory shone around. "Fear not," said he, for mighty dread Had seized their troubled mind; "Glad tidings of great joy I bring To you and all mankind. "To you, in David's town, this day The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, "The heavenly babe you there shall find All meanly wrapped in swaddling bands, Thus spake the seraph; and forthwith "All glory be to God on high, And to the earth be peace; Good will henceforth from Heaven to men Begin and never cease." Nahum Tate [1652-1715] CHRISTMAS CAROLS Ir came upon the midnight clear, From heaven's all-gracious King" The world in solemn stillness lay Still through the cloven skies they come Above its sad and lowly plains They bend on hovering wing, And ever o'er its Babel-sounds The blessed angels sing. But with the woes of sin and strife The Angels And man, at war with man, hears not And ye, beneath life's crushing load, For lo! the days are hastening on And the whole world give back the song Which now the angels sing. 201 Edmund Hamilton Sears [1810-1876] THE ANGELS From "Flowers of Sion" RUN, shepherds, run where Bethlehem blest appears. A Saviour there is born more old than years, Amidst heaven's rolling heights this earth who stayed. In a poor cottage inned, a virgin maid, A weakling did him bear, who all upbears; There is he poorly swaddled, in manger laid, To whom too narrow swaddlings are our spheres: Thus singing, through the air the angels swarm, William Drummond [1585-1649] THE BURNING BABE As I in hoary winter's night To view what fire was near, Who, scorched with excessive heat, Such floods of tears did shed, As though His floods should quench His flames, "Alas!" quoth He, "but newly born In fiery heats I fry, Yet none approach to warm their hearts "My faultless breast the furnace is; The fuel, wounding thorns; The fuel Justice layeth on, And Mercy blows the coals, The metal in this furnace wrought For which, as now on fire I am So will I melt into a bath, To wash them in my blood." That it was Christmas Day. Robert Southwell [1561?-1595] |