Music On Christmas Morning
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- Music I love--but never strain
- Could kindle raptures so divine,
- So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
- And rouse this pensive heart of mine--
- As that we hear on Christmas morn,
- Upon the wintry breezes borne.
- Though Darkness still her empire keep,
- And hours must pass, ere morning break;
- From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
- That music KINDLY bids us wake:
- It calls us, with an angel's voice,
- To wake, and worship, and rejoice;
- To greet with joy the glorious morn,
- Which angels welcomed long ago,
- When our redeeming Lord was born,
- To bring the light of Heaven below;
- The Powers of Darkness to dispel,
- And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.
- While listening to that sacred strain,
- My raptured spirit soars on high;
- I seem to hear those songs again
- Resounding through the open sky,
- That kindled such divine delight,
- In those who watched their flocks by night.
- With them I celebrate His birth--
- Glory to God, in highest Heaven,
- Good-will to men, and peace on earth,
- To us a Saviour-king is given;
- Our God is come to claim His own,
- And Satan's power is overthrown!
- A sinless God, for sinful men,
- Descends to suffer and to bleed;
- Hell MUST renounce its empire then;
- The price is paid, the world is freed,
- And Satan's self must now confess
- That Christ has earned a RIGHT to bless:
- Now holy Peace may smile from heaven,
- And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring:
- The captive's galling bonds are riven,
- For our Redeemer is our king;
- And He that gave his blood for men
- Will lead us home to God again.
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