But with the woes of sin and strife
  The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
  Two thousand years of wrong.
And man at war with man hears not
  The love-song which they bring;
Oh, hush the noise, ye men of strife,
  And hear the angels sing!

And ye beneath life's crushing load,
  Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
  With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
  Come swiftly on the wing:—
Oh, rest beside the weary road
  And hear the angels sing!

For lo! the days the hastening on
  By prophet-bards foretold,
When the ever-circling years
  Comes round the age of gold;
When peace shall over all the earth
  Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
  Which now the angels sing.