FLING out, fling out your windows wide! I bring you joy this Christmas-tide: To-day is born in Bethlehem A son of royal David's stem: Then sing and rest you satisfied— @3In excelsis gloria!@1 'Where is the royal Babe arrayed?' Lo! He is in a manger laid; The Lord of life an ox's guest— But warm He lies on Mary's breast? Then sing and rest you undismayed. 'How may we find His manager-bed?' There shines a star above His head; And choirs of viewless Cherubin Shall guide you to that humble inn: Then sing and rest you comforted. 'And is it He that should be sent?' Three kings came from the Orient A-riding with the tokens three From Ind, Cathay, and Arabye: Then sing and rest you confident. 'What bringeth He, this new-born King?' Lo! all good gifts there are to bring. 'Tis He shall turn your tears to mirth, And send goodwill and peace on earth: Then kneel, and rest you worshipping— @3In excelsis gloria!@1 |