"Joy to the World! The Lord is Come!"
Like liquid music, the notes flowed through the purple and silver of the Oriental sky. Studding profusely the deep velvet background of the gorgeous night; the bewildering magnificent galaxy of stars blazed and quivered with the majesty of it.
Orion, Pleides and the great Southern Cross—master jewels of the gorgeous, gem-set sky—scintillated, shone and leaped to new brilliancy 'neath the spell of it; and all the heavens bowed themselves and stood like ten million maids of waiting while that new glory, "the Star of the East," like some magnificent queen with silken robes and floating gossamer was on the march—striding regally across the silver carpet of the royal highway of the sky—on, ever on toward Bethlehem of Judea.
"Joy to the world! The Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King!"
The whole night was a-thrill with it!
Angels sang it!
Bells rang it!
Hilltops shouted it!
Valleys echoed it!
Skies proclaimed it!
The heavens declared it!
The seas roared it!
Earth, air, sea and sky were a-drip with it, a-brim with it, flowed o'er with it!
Flowing gold, from a royal cup of purple and silver the glory of the message rose aloft and filled the very universe.
Far below, like the soft glow of a vestal taper, a subdued light shone through the stable window—glowed, dimmed, glowed again as the moving shadow of some human form crossed or re-crossed.
Yonder plain garbed shepherds from Judean hills trudged steadily on up the moonlit road, while in the distance the wise men in regal grace drew nigh on sure, fleet camels.
"Joy to the world! The Lord is come!"
Up, up and out, out o'er the mountain and plain, like silver notes of angel trumpet floated the carols of the new born song—the song that should never die; but which should live and swell and grow 'til all the hills should catch it up and fling it 'gainst the sounding board of the sky, and it, in turn, should fling it back again intensified ten thousand times 'til all the girdled earth be wrapt in song and joy and gladness, and the voices of earth's multitudes be wooed to song, and heaven and earth be joined in one great orchestrated symphony of worship and thanksgiving.
Joy, joy, joy to the world—the stricken, the heavy hearted!
Joy to you, O Israel, and to the Gentile land!
Joy to the captive and he who is bound in the prison of despair!
The Lion of Judah's Tribe is come, who shall strike thy shackles off and burst thy bars asunder—the liberating Deliverer who shall throw down the gates and lay low the walls that shut thee in!
Lift up thine eyes. The light is come and Christ the Lord is here.
Joy to thee, O mourner in the region and shadow of death! Unto thee who fear His name shall the righteous Sun arise; and there is comfort in His circling arms and healing 'neath His wings. They who are dead shall live again—they that mourn, be comforted.
Joy to the world! The Lord is come! The powers of Hell are vanquished!
Joy to the weak and sinful! Joy to the breaking heart! The Saviour of men is come to earth to open the living way that leads to God by Calvary's hill and the crimson flowing stream—has come to shed His precious blood—to die that men may live that the vilest sinner might be redeemed and made whiter than snow.
None so fallen; none so low but His power can make them whole; none so bound or heavy laden but He can set them free.
Joy to the sick and afflicted! Joy to the weary eyes! Joy to they who have tossed and mourned upon a bed of pain! The Great Physician is now come nigh—the Healer of mortal woes—with health in a touch and life in a word, and virtue in His robes.
Joy to the heavy laden and to the sore oppressed!
The Burden Bearer now is here! Thy burdens on Him cast.
Look up, O earth, and dry thy tears! Lift up your heads ye gates! Be ye lift up everlasting doors. The King of Glory cometh in.
Rise up, O captive daughter. Shake they garments from the dust. Rise up. Sit down, clothed with salvation's joy.
Come hither, O ye who grope for the door. The Lord shall give thee light.
Lift up, lift up the hands that hang down and strengthen the feeble knees. Say to them that are weak, "Be strong, for the Lord will do great things."
Clap your hands, ye trees; and skip ye hills like young lambs of the fold.
Flow down ye mountains before His face.
Be moved, ye firmaments.
Heaven stoops to earth and, born of God, the blessed Christ is here!
Arise, O captive daughter! Cast the yoke from off they neck! Rejoice, O earth and be ye glad, for, lo, thy King is come!