Ring out, ye bells! All Nature
With gladness at the wondrous story, — The world was at lorn, But Christ is
To change our sadness into glory. Sing, earthlings, sing! To-night a
Hath come from heaven's high throne to bless us. The outstretched hand O'er all the
Is raised in pity to caress us. Come at His call; Be joyful all;
Away with mourning and with sadness! The heavenly choir With holy
Their voices raise in songs of gladness. The darkness breaks And Dawn awakes,
Her cheeks suffused with youthful blushes. The rocks and stones In holy
Are singing sweeter than the thrushes. Then why should we In silence be,
When Nature lends her voice to praises; When heaven and earth Proclaim the
Of Him for whom that lone star blazes? No, be not still, But with a
Strike all your harps and set them ringing; On hill and heath Let every
Throw all its power into singing!
