1. Behold what splendour, hear that shout!
Heav'n opens, Angels issue our,
And throng the nether sky,
And throng the nether sky.
What joyful tidings do they bring?
What joyful tidings do they bring?
Rapt at th'approach of Israel's King,
They speak their Monarch high,
They speak their Monarch high
They speak their Monarch high.
2. Why doth the King approach our land?
Comes He with terror in His hand,
The merit of our crimes?
Shepherds, be glad! He comes with peace,
Not wrath, but universal grace,
To bless earth's distant climes!
3. See Heav'n's great Heir a Virgin's Son!
Behold a manger for His throne!
Though spotless, He must die.
Yours is the guilt, but His the pain;
His is the sorrow, yours the gain;
Then let His praise be high.
The Splendour Lyrics
The Splendour Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
1. Behold what splendour, hear that shout!
Heav'n opens, Angels issue our,
And throng the nether sky,
And throng the nether sky.
What joyful tidings do they bring?
What joyful tidings do they bring?
Rapt at th'approach of Israel's King,
They speak their Monarch high,
They speak their Monarch high
They speak their Monarch high.
2. Why doth the King approach our land?
Comes He with terror in His hand,
The merit of our crimes?
Shepherds, be glad! He comes with peace,
Not wrath, but universal grace,
To bless earth's distant climes!
3. See Heav'n's great Heir a Virgin's Son!
Behold a manger for His throne!
Though spotless, He must die.
Yours is the guilt, but His the pain;
His is the sorrow, yours the gain;
Then let His praise be high.
Heav'n opens, Angels issue our,
And throng the nether sky,
And throng the nether sky.
What joyful tidings do they bring?
What joyful tidings do they bring?
Rapt at th'approach of Israel's King,
They speak their Monarch high,
They speak their Monarch high
They speak their Monarch high.
2. Why doth the King approach our land?
Comes He with terror in His hand,
The merit of our crimes?
Shepherds, be glad! He comes with peace,
Not wrath, but universal grace,
To bless earth's distant climes!
3. See Heav'n's great Heir a Virgin's Son!
Behold a manger for His throne!
Though spotless, He must die.
Yours is the guilt, but His the pain;
His is the sorrow, yours the gain;
Then let His praise be high.