Borne upon the latest breath, songs of praise shall conquer death; Then amidst eternal joy, songs of praise their powers employ. 47. The world lay hushed in slumber deep, And darkness veiled the mind, When rose upon their shadowy sleep, The Star that saves mankind! It dawns o’er Bethlehem’s lowly shed, And scattering at the sight, Heaven’s idol-host at once have fled Before that awful light. Led by the solitary star To glory’s poor abode, Lo! wondering Wisdom from afar, Brings incense to her God. Humility, on Judah’s hills, Watching her fleecy care, Turns to an Angel-voice that fills With love the midnight air. Like voices through yon bursting cloud Announce the almighty plan, Hymning in adoration loud, “Peace and good-will to man.” 48. Sing all in heaven, at Jesu’s birth, Glory to God, and peace on earth: Incarnate love in Christ is seen, Pure mercy and good-will to men. Praise Him, extolled above all height, Who doth in worthless worms delight; God reconciled in Christ confess, Your present and eternal peace. Then swift to every startled eye, New streams of glory light the sky; Heaven burst her azure gates to pour Her spirits to the midnight hour. On wheels of light, on wings of flame, The glorious hosts of Zion came; High heaven with songs of triumph rang, While thus they struck their harps and sang. 49. All hail the power of Jesu’s name! let angels prostrate fall; Bring forth the royal diadem, and crown Him Lord of all! Crown Him, ye martyrs of your God, who from his altar call; Extol the stem of Jesse’s rod, and crown Him Lord of all. Ye chosen seed of Israel’s race, a remnant weak and small; Hail Him who saves you by his grace, and crown Him Lord of all. Ye Gentile sinners, ne’er forget the wormwood and the gall; Go spread your trophies at his feet, and crown Him Lord of all. O that with yonder sacred throng, we at his feet may fall; There join the everlasting song, and crown Him Lord of all! 50. Of all the wonders and delights, which raise our best surprise, The glorious themes, the lovely sights, with which we feast our eyes, There’s none for excellence, and joy, and wonder can compare, With what at Christmas may employ our serious thoughts and prayer. If travellers through the darksome night rejoice the day to see; If prisoners bound in woful plight, are glad when they get free; If sick and dying men rejoice to see th’ physician’s face,— Then, sinners, listen, tune your voice, and hail the Saviour’s grace.