A song was heard at Christmas to wake the midnight sky: a Savior's birth, and peace on earth, and praise to God on high. The angels sang at Christmas with all the hosts above, and still we sing the newborn King, his glory and his love. A star was seen at Christmas, a herald and a sign, that men might know the way to go to find the child divine. The wise men watched at Christmas in some far eastern land, and still the wise in starry skies discern their Maker's hand. A tree was grown at Christmas, a sapling green and young: no tinsel bright with candlelight upon its branches hung. But he who came at Christmas our sins and sorrows bore, and still we name his tree of shame our life for evermore. A child was born at Christmas when Christmas first began: the Lord of all a baby small, for love of men made man. For love is ours at Christmas, and life and light restored, and so we praise through endless days the Savior, Christ the Lord.