Glad Christmas Bells, Your Music Tells
The Sweet And Pleasant Story;
How Came To Earth, In Lowly Birth,
The Lord Of Life And Glory.
No Palace Hall Its Ceiling Tall
His Kingly Head Spread Over,
There Only Stood A Stable Rude
The Heavenly Babe To Cover.
No Raiment Gay, As There He Lay,
Adorned The Infant Stranger;
Poor, Humble Child Of Mother Mild,
She Laid Him In A Manger.
But From Afar, A Splendid Star
The Wise Men Westward Turning;
The Livelong Night Saw Pure And Bright,
Above His Birth Place Burning.
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