For saving of our precious souls, Christ died upon the cross: We ne’er can do for Jesus Christ What he hath done for us. The life of man is but a span, And cut down like a flower; We are here to-day—to-morrow gone, The creatures of an hour! God bless the master of this house, Mistress and children dear! Joyful may their Christmas be, And happy their New-year! 12. Hark, the herald angels sing, Glory to the new-born King, Peace on earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcil’d! Joyful all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies. With the angelic host proclaim, Christ is born in Bethlehem. Hark, the herald angels sing, Glory to the new-born King! Christ, by highest heaven ador’d, Christ the everlasting Lord, Late in time behold him come, Offspring of a Virgin’s womb; Veil’d in flesh the Godhead He,— Hail the Incarnate Deity! Pleased as Man with men to appear, Jesus our Immanuel here. Hark, the herald angels, &c. Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in his wings! Mild He lays his glory by, Born that man no more may die! Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth. Hark, the herald angels, &c. 13. Let men and angels sing, Glory to God our King,— Jesus is born! Praise Him who left his throne, Bow’d his heavens and came down, His matchless love made known, On this glad morn. Chorus—Praise Him, &c. Angels to swains appear; Tending their fleecy care, Light shines abroad: “Rise,” says the messenger; “Shepherds,” dismiss your fears: Jesus to-day appears! Glory to God! Cho: Rise, &c. Since the Redeemer’s birth, Sweet peace shall be on earth: Good-will to men, Far as creation’s bound, Tidings of joy shall sound; Through all the nations round, Jesus shall reign! Chorus—Far as creation’s bound, Tidings of joy shall sound; Through all the nations round, Jesus shall reign! 14. Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid! Star of the east, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. Cold on his cradle the dew-drops are shining, Low lies his head with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all! Say, shall we yield Him in costly devotion, Odours of Edom, and off’rings divine; Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine?