Thy foes why should they move thee? Their wiles and rage are vain, Thy Saviour, who doth love thee, Will scatter them again. He comes! a Conq'ror glorious, He'll scatter every band Of foes--His course victorious Too few they're to withstand. He comes to judge each nation; Who curs'd Him, curse shall He; With grace and consolation, Who lov'd, receiv'd shall be. Oh! come, Thou Sun, and lead us To everlasting light, Up to Thy mansions guide us Of glory and delight. Birth of Christ.--Christmas. OF THE APPEARANCE OF THE ANGELS. Behold! behold! what wonder's here! The gloomy night turns bright and clear, A brilliant light dispels the shade, The stars before it pale and fade. A wondrous light it is, I trow, And not the ancient sun shines now, For, contrary to nature, night Is turned by it to day so bright. What means He to announce to us, Who nature's course can alter thus? A mighty work design'd must be When such a mighty sign we see. To us vouchsafèd can it be The Sun of Righteousness to see, The Star from Jacob's stem so bright, The woman's Seed, the Gentiles' Light? 'Tis even so--for from the sky Heav'n's hosts with joyful tidings hie, That He is born in Bethl'hem's stall, Who Saviour is and Lord of all! Oh blessedness! the goodly throng Of sainted fathers waited long To see this day, with hope deferr'd, As we may learn from God's own word. Awake, ye sons of men, awake! Up! up! and now your journey take With me, let us together go To where the blessèd angels show. Behold! there in yon gloomy stall He lies who ruleth over all; Where once their food the cattle sought, The Virgin's child for rest is brought. Oh, child of Adam! ponder well, And stumble not at what I tell, He who appears in this low state For us is, and aye shall be great. In mortal flesh we Him behold, Who all things made and doth uphold, The Word who was with God is He, Himself is God whom now we see. It is God's sole-begotten Son Through whom we now approach His throne, The First and Last, the Prince of Peace, The Conqueror through whom wars cease. The times predicted are fulfill'd, God's fiery wrath must now be still'd; His Son, made man, doth bear our load Of guilt, our peace buys with His blood. It is a time of joy to-day, With mourning and with woe away! Woe, woe to him who us revil'd! God's seen in flesh--we're reconcil'd. The Lord who bears our sin is here, Who'll bruise the serpent's head is near, The Death of death--the Woe of hell-- The Lord of Life with us doth dwell.