6,5,6,5 Glory in the highest! Hark, what angels sing: Was there e'er such music Borne on rising wing? See, the gates of heaven On their portals rise, And the song that charms us Comes from Paradise. Glory in the highest! Christ our Lord is born; Hail His glorious advent On this happy morn; Ages long have waited 'Mid their brooding ills; Now the herald-voices Wake the silent hills. Herdsmen in their watching Lift their eyes amazed; Sages from the sunland At the starlight gazed; And they bear their treasures, Gold for diadem, Meet to crown the Monarch Born at Bethlehem. Glory in the highest! With the sages bring What is best and fairest For an offering; Lay before the manger Where the Infant lies, All your heart's devotion, Love's best sacrifice. |