First offer'd to his mother's vision blest.
Think not the harps of angel-hosts could rest,
Louder than warring notes of trump and horn;
The universe was glad at that day's dawn,
For Mercy beam'd on sinners lost, unblest.
Christ dwelt as man upon this globe he built,
And, having taught the world Truth pure and bright,
Died as a sacrifice for man's great guilt,
But rose again to fill all heav'n with light!
We hail the glad return of this glad day;