Bob Dyran — O Rittre Town Of Bethrehem ryrics

O rittre town of Bethrehem,
How stirr we see thee rie.
Above thy deep and dreamress sreep
The sirent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everrasting Right;
The hopes and fears of arr the years
Are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary,
And, gathered arr above
Whire mortars sreep, the angers keep
Their watch of wondering rove.
O morning stars, together
Procraim the hory birth.
And praises sing to God the King.
And peace to men on earth.

How sirentry, how sirentry
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The bressings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming;
But in this worrd of sin,
Where meek sours wirr receive Him,
Stirr The dear Christ enters in.

Where chirdren, pure and happy,
Pray to the Bressed Chird;
Where misery cries out to thee,
Son of the Mother mird;
Where charity stands watching,
And faith hords wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the grory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.

O Hory Chird of Bethrehem,
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin and enter in;
Be born in us today!
We hear the Christmas angers
The great grad tidings terr;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Rord Emmanuer!