185 In this our happy Christmas-tide

1 In this our happy Christmas-tide The joyful bells are ringing; To praise be all our powers applied, God's grace and mercy singing; In Him by whom the world was made, Now in the lowly manger laid, Rejoice ye in the spirit; Thy praise, O Savior, we will sound Unto the earth's remotest bound, That all the world shall hear it. 2 A little Son, the virgin-born, True God from everlasting, To rescue us who were forlorn, His lot with us is casting: It moved His tender heart to see This world of sin and misery In condemnation lying; Therefore He came from realms above Down to our earth, drawn by His love, To soothe our grief and sighing. 3 Our thanks we offer Him today, Although a poor oblation, Hallelujah! our joyful lay Shall sound through every nation; Now in our camp the Ark we see, Therefore we shout the victory With joyful hearts unfearing; We sing of peace, the peace profound, That hell shall tremble at the sound, Our Christmas anthem hearing. 4 That God has laid His anger by, He by His gift hath shown us; He gives His Son for us to die; In Him He now doth own us; These joyful tidings tell abroad, That Jesus Christ, the Son of God, From sin doth us deliver; Who then should not be glad today When Christ is born, the sinners' stay, Who is of grace the giver? 5 As darkest night must fade and die Before the sun's appearing, So fades my grief away, when I Think on these tidings cheering; That God from all eternity Hath loved the world, and hath on me Bestowed His grace and favor; I'll ne'er forget the angels' strain: Peace, peace on earth, good will to men, To you is born a Savior! 6 Although my joyful Christmas lay Is mingled with my sighing, The cross shall never take away My joy and praise undying; For when the heart is most opprest, The harp of joy is tuned the best, The better strains are ringing, The cross itself, at Jesus' will, Must aid my soul, that I may still In grief His praise be singing. 7 Hallelujah! our strife is o'er, Who, then, should pine in sadness? Who now should grieve in anguish sore In these our days of gladness? Thou Church of God, O sing this morn: To us is Christ the Savior born, O joy that none can sever! Hallelujah! sing thou my heart, Now Christ is mine, I can depart To be with Him for ever.