St. Gerard's Choir Web:

Christmas Hymns 1 (Page 1 of 3)

O Come All Ye Faithful - by Celine Dion

Mary's Boy Child - by Sissel Kyrkjebo

O come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant,

O come ye, O come ye to Bethelehem;

Come and behold Him, born the King of Angels.

O come, let us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him,

Christ the Lord.

Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation,

Sing all ye citizens of heav'n above;

Glory to God, in the highest glory.

Yea, Lord we greet Thee, born this happy morning,

Jesus, to Thee be glory given;

Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing.

Long time ago in Bethlehem, so the Holy Bible says,

Mary's Boy Child, Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas day.

While shepherds watch their flock by night,

they see a bright new shining star,

They hear a choir sing the music seems to come from afar.

Hark, now hear the angels sing

A new King's born today.

And men will live forevermore,

Because of Christmas Day.

Now, Joseph and his wife Mary, came to Bethlehem that night,

And find no place to bear sweet child, not a single room was in sight.

O Holy Night - by II Divo

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and sorrow pining

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! Or hear the angels voices!

O night divine! O night when Christ was born!

O night divine! O night, O night divine.

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,

With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand

So led by the night of stars so sweetly gleaming,

Then came the wise men from the Orient land

To see the King who made earth's lowliest choices;

Yes, chose His throne a manger all forlorn.

Away In A Manger- by Anne Murray

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,

The little Lord Jesus, laid down His sweet head.

The stars in the bright sky, looked down where He lay,

The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the Baby awakes;

But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes.

I love Thee Lord Jesus, look down from the sky,

And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.

This page was last updated: September 6, 2011