203. S. M. E. H. Chapin.
The Same.
1Hark! hark! with harps of gold,
What anthem do they sing?--
The radiant clouds have backward rolled,
And angels smite the string.
"Glory to God!"--bright wings
Spread glist'ning and afar,
And on the hallowed rapture rings
From circling star to star.
2"Glory to God!" repeat
The glad earth and the sea;
And every wind and billow fleet,
Bears on the jubilee.
Where Hebrew bard hath sung,
Or Hebrew seer hath trod,
Each holy spot has found a tongue;
"Let glory be to God."
3Soft swells the music now
Along that shining choir,
And every seraph bends his brow
And breathes above his lyre.
What words of heavenly birth
Thrill deep our hearts again,
And fall like dew-drops to the earth?
"Peace and good-will to men!"
4Soft!--yet the soul is bound
With rapture, like a chain:
Earth, vocal, whispers them around,
And heav'n repeats the strain.
Sound, harps, and hail the morn
With ev'ry golden string;--
For unto us this day is born
A Saviour and a King!