Passionate peace is in the sky
And on the snow in silver sealed
The beasts are perfect in the field
And men seem men so suddenly
But take ten swords, and ten times ten,
And blow the bugle in praising men
For we are for all men under the sun
And they are against us every one
And misers haggle, and mad men clutch
And there is peril in praising much
And we have the terrible tongues un-curled
That praise the world to the sons of the world.
The idle humble hill and wood
Are bowed about the sacred Birth
And for one little while the earth
Is lazy with the love of good
But ready are you and ready am I
If the battle blow and the guns go by
For we are for all men under the sun
And they are against us every one
For the men that hate herd altogether
To pride and gold and the great white feather
And the thing is graven in star and stone
That the men that love are all alone.
Hunger is hard and time is tough
But bless the beggars and kiss the kings
For hope has broken the heart of things
And nothing was ever praised enough
But hold the shield for a sudden swing
And point the sword in praising a thing
For we are for all men under the sun
And they are against us every one
And mime and merchant, thane and thrall,
Hate us because we love them all
Only till Christmas time goes by
Passionate peace is in the sky.