Hark the Herald Angels Sing

But the heralding the same, glory to the new born king. He's gone earth and mercy, but an ancane, a dragon's style. Joyful of the nation's rise, join the triumph of the skies, Hail and jay, close to fame, Christ is home in Bethlehem, Christ the herald angels sing,

Glory to the new man King, my dear lady, glory by, for that man no more may die. Born to raise the sun so bright, born to give them frank and fair. Filled with healing in his dreams, I am life's only three.

Hail the son of Christ's death, Hail the hand who grins of peace, Hark the herald in the sing, Glory over you, born King!