Shine out midst the azure, O Star of the morning, The Christ-child is sleeping in Bethlehem town! The gift-child of promise, from yon sphere of the angels -- The mighty to save, though He weareth no crown. Shine out in thy beauty, O Star of the morning, The sources of light are a-flush, for behold! The King, the Redeemer, the gift of our Father Hath come to redeem the lost sheep of His fold! |