| Lyrics: | (BridgesHoldridge)
A frosty Christmas Eve, when the stars where shining,
I traveled for the
home, where westward falls the hill.
And for many, many a village, in the darkness of the
valley,
distant music reached me, peels of bells were ringing.
Then spread my thoughts
to olden times, to that first of Christmases
when shepherds who were watching, heard music in
the fields.
And they sat there and they marveled, and they knew they could not tell
whether
it were angels, or the bright stars a singing.
But to me heard a far, it was starry
music,
the singing of the angels, the comfort of our Lord.
Words of old that come a
traveling, by the riches of the times,
and I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill.
And
I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill. |
