Break forth, O beauteous heavenly light,
And usher in the morning;
O shepherds, shrink not with afright,
But hear the angel’s warning.
This Child, now weak in infancy,
Our confidence and joy shall be,
The power of Satan breaking,
Our peace eternal making.

Come, ye lofty, come, ye lowly,
Let your songs of gladness ring;
In a stable lies the Holy,
In a manger rests the King:
See in Mary’s arms reposing
Christ by highest Heav’n adored:
Come, your circle round Him closing,
Pious hearts that love the Lord.

Come ye poor, no pomp of station
Robes the Child your hearts adore;
He, the Lord of all salvation,
Shares your want, is weak and poor:
Oxen, round about behold them;
Rafters naked, cold, and bare,
See the shepherds, God has told them
That the Prince of Life lies there.

Come, ye children, blithe and merry,
This one Child your model make;
Christmas holly, leaf, and berry,
All be prized for His dear sake:
Come ye gentle hearts and tender,
Come ye spirits keen and bold;
All in all your homage render,
Weak and mighty, young and old.

High above a star is shining,
And the wise men haste from far:
Come, glad hearts, and spirits pining—
For you all has ris’n the star.
Let us bring our poor oblations,
Thanks and love, and faith and praise;
Come, ye people, come, ye nations,
All in all draw nigh to gaze.

Hark the Heav’n of heav’ns is ringing:
Christ the Lord to man is born!
Are not all our hearts, too, singing,
Welcome, welcome, Christmas morn?
Still the Child, all power possessing,
Smiles as through the ages past;
And the song of Christmas blessing
Sweetly sinks to rest at last.

Refrain

Coming, coming, yes they are,
Coming, coming from afar,

From the wild and scorching desert,
Afric’s sons awaked from sleep;
Jesus’ love has drawn and won them,
At His cross they bow and weep.

Refrain

From the fields and crowded cities,
China gathers to His feet;
In His love Shem’s gentle children,
Now have found a safe retreat.

Refrain

From the Indus, and the Ganges,
Steady flows the living stream,
To love’s ocean, to His bosom,
Calvary their wond’ring theme.

Refrain

From the steppes of Russia dreary,
From Slavonia’s scattered lands,
They are yielding soul and spirit
Into Jesus’ loving hands.

Refrain

From the frozen realms of midnight,
Over many a weary mile,
To exchange their soul’s long winter
For the summer of His smile.

Refrain

All to meet in plains of glory,
All to sing His praises sweet;
What a chorus, what a meeting,
With the family complete!

Refrain

Lord, a Savior’s love displaying,
Show the heathen lands Thy way;
Thousands still like sheep are straying
In the dark and cloudy day.

Shades of death are gathering o’er them,
Lord, they perish from Thy sight!
Let Thine angel go before them;
Bring the Gentiles to Thy Light.

Fetch them home from every nation,
From the islands of the sea;
By the word of Thy salvation
Call the wanderers back to Thee.

Thou their pasture hast provided,
Grant the blessing long foretold;
Let Thy sheep, divinely guided,
Find at last the one true Fold.

Rise, Thou Light of Gentile nations,
Jesus, bright and Morning Star;
Let Thy Word, the gladsome tidings,
Ring out loudly near and far,
Bringing freedom to the captives,
Peace and comfort to the slave,
That the heathen, free from bondage,
May proclaim Thy power to save.

See the blindness of the heathen,
Strangers to Thy glorious light,
Straying hopeless till they find Thee,
Wandering aimless in the night.
See their pitiful condition;
Lo, gross darkness covers all,
And no ray of hope refreshes
Nor dispels the dreadful pall.

If Thou, merciful Redeemer,
Hadst not saved us from this plight,
In like darkness we would languish
Hopeless, helpless, in sin’s night.
Lovingly Thou, Lord, didst seek us
In the beauty of Thy grace;
Now with joy we freely serve Thee,
We, Thy blessèd, chosen race.

Knowing Thee and Thy salvation,
Grateful love dare never cease
To proclaim Thy tender mercies,
Gracious Lord, Thy heavenly peace.
Sound we forth the Gospel tidings
To the earth’s remotest bound
That the sinner has been pardoned
And forgiveness can be found.

Though now the nations sit beneath
The darkness of o’erspreading death,
God will arise with light divine,
On Zion’s holy towers to shine.

That light shall shine on distant lands,
And wandering tribes, in joyful bands,
Shall come, Thy glory, Lord, to see,
And in Thy courts to worship Thee.

O light of Zion, now arise!
Let the glad morning bless our eyes;
Ye nations, catch the kindling ray,
And hail the splendors of the day.