Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com Break forth, O beauteous heavenly light, And usher in the morning; O shepherds, shrink not with afright, But hear the angel's warning. This Child, now weak in infancy, Our confidence and joy shall be, The power of Satan breaking, Our peace eternal making.

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming From tender stem hath sprung! Of Jesse's lineage coming As men of old have sung. It came, a flower bright, Amid the cold of winter When half-gone was the night. Isaiah 'twas foretold it, The Rose I have in mind: With Mary we behold it, The virgin mother kind. To show God's love aright She bore to men a Savior When half-gone was the night.

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com It came upon the midnight clear That glorious song of old From Angels playing near the earth To touch their harps of gold Peace on the earth could will two men From Heaven's all-gracious King The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the Angels sing And I hear them singing Sing, I do hear them singing The first Noel the Angel did say Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay In fields where they lay, they keeping their sheep On a cold winter's night that was so deep

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com Angels we have heard on high Sweetly singing o'er the plains And the mountains in reply Echoing their joyous strains Angels we have heard on high Sweetly, sweetly through the night And the mountains in reply Echoing their brief delight Gloria, in excelsis Deo Gloria, in excelsis Deo Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why your joyous strains prolong? What the gladsome tidings be Which inspire your heavenly song? Gloria, in excelsis Deo Gloria, in excelsis Deo Come to Bethlehem and see Him whose birth the angels sing, Come, adore on bended knee, Christ the Lord, the newborn King. Gloria, in excelsis Deo Gloria, in excelsis Deo Yeah Gloria, in excelsis Deo Angels we have heard Angels we have heard on high Angels we have heard, oh Angels we have heard on high Angels we have heard on high Angels we have heard on high In excelsis Deo

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com Go tell it on the mountain Over the hills and everywhere Go tell it on the mountain Our Jesus Christ is born When I was a seeker I sought both night and day I asked the Lord to help me And he showed me the way Go tell it on the mountain Over the hills and everywhere Go tell it on the mountain Our Jesus Christ is born He made me a watchman Upon a city wall And if I am a Christian I am the least of all Go tell it on the mountain Over the hills and everywhere Go tell it on the mountain Our Jesus Christ is born

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com Silent night, holy night All is calm, all is bright Round yon Virgin, Mother, Mother and Child Holy infant so tender and mild Sleep in heavenly peace Sleep in heavenly Sleep in heavenly Sleep in heavenly Sleep in heavenly Sleep in heavenly peace Silent night, holy night All is calm, all is bright Round yon Virgin, Mother, Mother and Child Holy infant so tender and mild Sleep in heavenly peace Sleep in heavenly peace Christ, Christ, the Savior is born Christ, Christ, the Savior Christ, Christ, the Savior is born

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Soloist: Samantha Noonan, samanthanoonan.com Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com The holly and the ivy, When they are both full grown, Of all trees that are in the wood, The holly bears the crown: O, the rising of the sun, And the running of the deer The playing of the merry organ, Sweet singing in the choir. The holly bears a blossom, As white as lily flow'r, And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ, To be our dear Saviour: O, the rising of the sun, And the running of the deer The playing of the merry organ, Sweet singing in the choir. The holly bears a berry, As red as any blood, And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ, To do poor sinners good: O, the rising of the sun, And the running of the deer The playing of the merry organ, Sweet singing in the choir. The holly bears a prickle, As sharp as any thorn, And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ, On Christmas Day in the morn: O, the rising of the sun, And the running of the deer The playing of the merry organ, Sweet singing in the choir. The holly bears a bark, As bitter as any gall, And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ, For to redeem us all: O, the rising of the sun, And the running of the deer The playing of the merry organ, Sweet singing in- Sweet singing in- In the choir.

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com O little town of Bethlehem How still we see thee lie Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasting Light The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee tonight For Christ is born of Mary And gathered all above While mortals sleep, the angels keep Their watch of wondering love O morning stars together Proclaim the holy birth And praises sing to God the King And Peace to men on earth Away in a manger No crib for a bed The little Lord Jesus Lay down His sweet head The stars in the sky Look down where He lay The little Lord Jesus Asleep on the hay Asleep on the hay O holy Child of Bethlehem Descend to us, we pray Cast out our sin and enter in Be born to us today We hear the Christmas angels The great glad tidings tell O come to us, abide with us Our Lord Emmanuel

Sung by the choir of The First Presbyterian Church in the city of New York Illustrated by Barbara Swanson Sherman, barbaraswansonsherman.com We three kings of orient are, Bearing gifts we traverse afar Field and fountain, moor and mountain, Following yonder star. Oh, star of wonder, star of night, Star with royal beauty bright. Westward leading, still proceeding, Guide with thy perfect light. Born a King on Bethlehem's plain, Gold I bring to crown him again King for ever, ceasing never Over us all to reign. Frankincense to offer have I, incense owns a Deity nigh Pray'r and praising, all men raising, Worship him, God most high, oh