At night on the hills of Judea,
The shepherds were watching the sky.
Where fleecy clouds gathered and drifted,
As the dawn of God's promise drew nigh.
They knew not the mode of His coming,
But thought of the purple and gold
Of their King in magnificent splendor,
And their voices grew solemn and tender
With the hope of the blessing foretold.
Again we are waiting His coming,
Reaching up to His standard of worth,
For the angel within is expanding,
And the brotherhood's right is demanding
That evil be banished from earth.
