The Peace-Giver

Thou whose birth on earth
Angels sang to men,
While thy stars made mirth,
Saviour, at thy birth.
This day born again;

As this night was bright
With thy cradle-ray,
Very light of light,
Turn the wild world’s night
To thy perfect day.

Thou the Word and Lord
In all time and space
Heard, beheld, adored,
With all ages poured
Forth before thy face,

Lord, what worth in earth
Drew thee down to die?
What therein was worth,
Lord, thy death and birth?
What beneath thy sky?

Thou whose face gives grace
As the sun’s doth heat,
Let thy sunbright face
Lighten time and space
Here beneath thy feet.

Bid our peace increase,
Thou that madest morn;
Bid oppression cease;
Bid the night be peace;
Bid the day be born.

A. C. Swinburne.