Glorious, Beauteous, Golden-bright

Glorious, beauteous, golden-bright,

Shedding softest, purest light,

Shone the stars that Christmas night,

When the Jewish shepherds kept

Watch beside their flocks that slept.

But the stars' sweet golden gleam

Faded quickly as a dream

'Mid the wondrous glory-stream

That illumined all the earth,

When Christ's angels sang His birth.

Soft and pure and holy glory,

Kings and seers and prophets hoary,

Shed throughout the sacred story:

While the priests, like shepherds true,

Watched beside God's chosen few.

But that light no more availéd,

And its splendor staighway paléd

In His light Whom angels hailéd;

Even as the stars of old,

'Mid the brightness lost their gold.

Now no more on Christmas night,

Is the sky with angels bright,

But for ever shines the Light;

Even He Whose birth they told

To the shepherds by the fold.

Since that Light then darkens never,

Let us all, with glad endeavor,

Sing the song that echoes ever:

Glory in the highest Heaven!

Peace on earth to us forgiven.