The Christmas Angel
Reading edition
In middle heaven a form behold; Fair-aureoled Her shapely brow with noon-bright gold; Soli Deo Gloria! Upon a little cloud she stands, Within her hands A tympanum with scarlet bands; Soli Deo Gloria! Thereon she playeth without fault, While up the vault Her voice makes silvery assault— Soli Deo Gloria! Till, blended with her soaring notes, Adown there floats An echo from a myriad throats— Soli Deo Gloria! An angel she of God’s own choir, Whose one desire Is higher yet to chant, and higher— Soli Deo Gloria! And every year, upon the morn When Christ was born Within the manger-bed forlorn— Soli Deo Gloria! ’Tis hers to bid song’s raptures run From sun to sun, And list to earth’s low antiphon— Soli Deo Gloria! Would that our praise might swell and rise Along the skies, And scale the gates of Paradise— Soli Deo Gloria! Bearing, with more complete accord, Unto the Lord,— Forevermore our watch and ward,— Soli Deo Gloria!