Shepherds, rejoice, lift up your eyes,
And send your fears away;
News from the region of the skies!
Salvation’s born to-day.
‘Jesus, the God whom angels fear,
Comes down to dwell with you;
To-day He makes His entrance here,
But not as monarchs do.
‘No gold, nor purple swaddling bands,
Nor royal shining things;
A manger for His cradle stands
And holds the King of kings.
‘Go, shepherds, where the Infant lies,
And see His humble throne:—
With tears of joy in all your eyes
Go, shepherds, kiss the Son.’
Thus Gabriel sang: and straight around
The heavenly armies throng;
They tune their harps to lofty sound,
And thus conclude the song:
‘Glory to God that reigns above,
Let peace surround the earth;
Mortals shall know their Maker’s love,
At their Redeemer’s birth.’
Lord! and shall angels have their songs,
And men no tunes to raise?
O may we lose these useless tongues
When they forget to praise!
Glory to God that reigns above,
That pitied us forlorn!
We join to sing our Maker’s love—
For there’s a Saviour born.
ISAAC WATTS