‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the realm,
ev’ry creature was stirring, with God at the helm.
The messengers sent to the shepherds with care,
near Bethlehem Judea, town chosen most fair.

At the stable there gathered just a few who’d see,
the birth of Lord Jesus, the King of the free.
The centuries of prophets came down to a day,
the Day of the ages, of God’s Holy say.

But the night before Christmas was a solemn affair,
’round the throne of the Father, who was sending Him there.
For long in the past before the dawn of mankind,
the Son was the sacrifice of God’s own design.

Sacrifice most terrible but lovely indeed,
sacrifice most precious, destined to bleed.

And there at throne of the Ancient of Days,
was presented the Son, with the angels’ hoorays!
The Son of Man then before union was made,
received power and glory, for a kingdom yet laid.

Its purpose was mighty – to rule all the earth,
in peace and justice and Almighty mirth.
But one thing was needed ‘fore kingdom could be,
a people who’d worship on free-bended knee.

On the night before Christmas there waited a crown,
for the one who was going to that little town.
But thorns were its make-up, and sin was its cost,
and before the kingdom there waited the Cross.