A song and a carol for Christmastide
Of the Prince of the Golden Shore,
Whom armies of light, in their vesture bright,
Love, serve, and adore evermore.
Far, far below, where the sunbeams glow
On a realm of His wide domain,
Sad ruin and woe, hath come through His foe,
With trouble and sorrow and pain. And sad is the sighing when death’s dark wings
Over Paradise darkly loom;
And dark the despair of the lost ones there,
Awaiting their last fatal doom.
When thus spake the Prince to His Father dear—
“Now life with a life I will buy,
Bring help from above for the sons of My love,
For them I will suffer and die!” Away and away to the far off land,
When the fullness of time was come,
Now speedeth the Lord of the Golden Strand
From His fair everlasting home.
So down below, and unstained by sin,
In a manger born will He be;
Thereby a lost world He did enter in,
To set the loved captives free! And bright was the carol, and loud the song
Which burst from the silver sky,
When entering lowly Earth’s sons among
He was seen by the hosts on high.
While song shall resound, as the years go round,
Till the moon and the stars shall cease;
All glory and praise to the Ancient of Days,
And to men be good will and peace! |
