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, goodwill to men
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From heavens 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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Still through the cloven skies they come,
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With peaceful wings unfurled;
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And still their heavenly 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 hovering wing,
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And ever over its Babel sounds
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The blessed angels sing.
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O 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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Oh rest beside the weary road
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And hear the angels sing.
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It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
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Kutless |