Twas still that night in Bethlehem
Two thousand years ago
The son of man came down
To turn chill hearts to love to show
A newer way to live in peace
And prayerful harmony
As at his birth the angels sang
Their heavenly psalmody.
In silent awe the shepherds left
Their flock to gather round
The stable door where deep within
They heard the gentle sound
Of ox and ass in sweet accord
Dumb homage for to pay
As at his birth the angels sang
Their heavenly psalmody.
Yet sweeter still that mother’s song
Whose soothing lullaby
Enrapt that humble place where christ
The king was born to lie
No royal crown nor robe of gold
Rude clothes a bed of hay
As at his birth the angels sang
Their heavenly psalmody.
Thou heaven sent globe whose guiding light
Drew wise men from afar
To give of gold of frankincense
Of myrrh pray be our star
To be our light from this time forth
To show the truth the way
As still this night the angels sing
Their endless psalmody.

© RIchard T Strudwick