God rest ye merry gentlemen,
Your Savior has come down.
Inside a lowly asses pen,
With warm, white sheep, and cattle brown,
He slumbers hid from sinful sight,
While straight above His star shines bright,
Which angels there have flown.
You know the tale of Christmas night,
A tale most true and real.
You see the shepherds faint with fright,
As angels in the sky reveal
The birthing place of our Dear Lord.
With haste they gather wool and gourd
To offer in their zeal.
The star has made a journey long,
It guided wise-men three.
They come with pomp, camel, and song
In search of one they know to be
The rightful King; they find Him there,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh lay bare,
Adore on bended knee.
The angels sing, while silent night
On all the land around
Is softened by the dainty sight
Of snow that covers all the ground;
Then slowly, slowly comes the moon
Brightens the night, until quite soon
A brand new day is found.
Let us in laud our songs employ,
On this year's Christmas feast-
Our prayers unite in hope and joy,
Adore with shepherd, king and beast,
The child who gave himself for man,
The price of God's eternal plan,
Whose love has never ceased.
Sophie Saurette
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