1 Though rude winds usher thee, sweet day,
Though clouds thy face deform,
Though nature’s grace be swept away
Before thy sleety storm;
E’en in thy sombrest wintry vest,
Of blessèd days thou art most blest.

2 Not frigid air nor gloomy morn
Shall check our jubilee;
Bright is the day when Christ was born;
No sun need shine, but He:
Let roughest storms their coldest blow,
With love of Him our hearts shall glow.

3 Inspired with high and holy thought,
Fancy is on the wing;
It seems as to mine ear it brought
Those voices caroling,
Voices through Heav’n and earth that ran,
Glory to God, goodwill to man.

4 I see the shepherds gazing wild
At those fair spirits of light;
I see them bending o’er the Child
With that untold delight
Which marks the face who view
Things but too happy to be true.

5 There in the lowly manger laid
Incarnate God they see;
He stoops to take through spotless maid
Our frail humanity;
Son of high God, creation’s heir,
He leaves His Heaven to raise us here.

6 Through Him, O Lord, we’re born anew,
Thy children once again,
Oh, day by day, our hearts renew,
That Thine we may remain,
And, angel-like, may all agree,
One sweet and holy family.

7 Oft as this joyous morn doth come
To speak our Savior’s love,
Oh, may it bear our spirits home
Where He now reigns above;
That day which brought Him from the skies
So man restores to paradise.

8 Then let winds usher thee, sweet day,
Let clouds thy face deform,
Though nature’s grace is swept away
Before thy sleety storm;
E’en i thy sombrest wintry vest,
Of blessèd days thou art most blest.