130 - It Came Upon the Midnight Clear 1 It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth, To touch their harps of gold: “Peace on the earth, goodwill to men From heavens all gracious King!” The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing. 2 Still through the cloven skies they come, With peaceful wings unfurled; And still their heavenly music floats O’er all the weary world: Above its sad and lowly plains They bend on hovering wing, And ever o’er its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing. 3 O ye beneath life’s crushing load, Whose forms are bending low, Who toil along the climbing way With painful steps and slow; Look now, for glad and golden hours Come swiftly on the wing; Oh rest beside the weary road And hear the angels sing.