It came upon the midnight clear,
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That glorious song of old,
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From angels bending near the earth,
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To touch their harps of gold:
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'Peace on the earth, good will to men,'
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From heav'n's all-gracious King.
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The world in solemn stillness lay,
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To hear the angels sing!
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Yet with the woes of sin and strife
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The world has suffered long,
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Beneath the angel strain have rolled
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Two thousand years of wrong;
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And man, at war with man, hears not
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The love song which they bring:
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O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
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And hear the angels sing!
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Still thro' the cloven skies they come,
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With peaceful wings unfurl'd;
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And still their heav'nly music floats
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O'er all the weary world:
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Above its sad and lowly plains
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They bend on hov'ring wing,
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And ever o'er its Babel sounds
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The blessed angels sing.
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All ye, beneath life's crushing load,
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Whose forms are bending low,
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Who toil along the climbing way
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With painful steps and slow,
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Look, now! for glad and golden hours
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Come swiftly on the wing:
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O rest beside the weary road,
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And hear the angels sing!
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For lo! the days are hast'ning on,
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By prophet bards foretold,
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When with the ever-circling years
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Comes round the age of gold;
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When peace shall over all the earth
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Its ancient splendors fling,
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And the whole world give back the song
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Which now the angels sing!
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It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
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Sammy Davis Jr. |