Oh, holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Until he appeared and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn
Fall on your knees
Oh, hear the angel voices
Oh, night divine
Oh, night divine
When Christ was born
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born
Oh, night divine
Oh, night divine
When Christ was born
The Holy Night
We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem;
The dumb kine from their fodder turning them,
Softened their horned faces
To almost human gazes
Toward the newly Born:
The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks
Brought their visionary looks,
As yet in their astonied hearing rung
The strange sweet angel-tonge:
The magi of the East, in sandals worn,
Knelt reverent, sweeping round,
With long pale beards, their gifts upon the ground,
The incense, myrrh, and gold
These baby hands were impotent to hold:
So let all earthlies and celestials wait
Upon thy royal state.
Sleep, sleep, my kingly One!
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning