Luke 2:20

• [Luk 2:20] Our Day Of Joy Is Here Again

  Our day of joy is here again, With love and peace and song; Come, let us join th’angelic strain With voices clear and strong. Refrain Glory to our God, we sing, Glory to our Lord and King; Peace, goodwill with all abide This holy Christmas tide. When darkness lay upon this earth, A glorious light did shine, God sent a Gift of priceless worth And showed His love divine. Refrain Now to the manger let us go To worship and adore The tender Babe upon the straw, Our Savior evermore. Refrain How wonderful that God’s own Son Should so Himself abase! He thrust the mighty from their throne, And gave the lowly grace. Refrain

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Luk 2:20] Sleep, My Little Jesus

  Sleep, my little Jesus, On Thy bed of hay, While the shepherds homeward Journey on their way. Mother is Thy shepherd And will her vigil keep: Did the voices wake Thee? O sleep, my Jesus, sleep! Refrain Softly sleep, sweetly sleep, My Jesus, sleep! Sleep, my little Jesus, While Thou art my own! Ox and ass Thy neighbors, Shalt Thou have a throne? Will they call me blessèd? Shall I stand and weep? Be it far, Jehovah! O sleep, my Jesus, sleep! Refrain Sleep, my little Jesus, Wonder-baby mine! Well the singing angels Greet Thee as divine. Through my heart, as heaven Low the echoes sweep Of glory to Jehovah! O sleep, my Jesus, sleep! Refrain

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Luke 8:2

• [Luk 8:2] O Daughters Blest Of Galilee

  O daughters blest of Galilee, With Jesus chose ye well to be, Thrice happy holy company. O joy, to see that Master dear! O joy, to live with Him so near! O joy, that gentle voice to hear! O more than joy, to that dear Lord, In purest, deepest love adored, All lowly service to afford. Yea, happy was your lot to bring In loyal homage to your King Each free and gracious offering. O Jesus, throned above the height, Adoring troops of angels bright Wait on Thy bidding day and night. Thy sacred form we cannot see, Yet, Lord, these hands may render Thee Each lowly act of charity. For while, ’mid want and woe we move, And tend Thy poor in gentle love, We minister to Thee above. O gracious Jesus, we confess, Our poor cold love, our nothingness: Yet Thou wilt own, and Thou wilt bless.

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  source: Cyberhymnal