It came upon a 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 heav’n’s all gracious King!” The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing. For lo! the days are hastening on, by prophets seen of old, when with the ever-circling years shall come the time foretold, when the new heav’n and earth shall own the Prince of Peace their King, and the whole world send back the song which now the an gels sing. Glory to God! Peace on the earth! Born is the King of Israel. The first Noel, the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay, in fields where they lay keeping their sheep, on a cold winter’s night that was so deep. Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel, born is the King of Israel. Then let us all with one accord sing praises to our heav’nly Lord, That hath made heav’n and earth of naught, and with His blood mankind hath bought. Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel, born is the King! Gladly we sing, Born is the King of Israel.