Everywh ere, everywh ere,
Ch ristmas tonigh t!
Ch ristmas in lands of th e
fir tree and pine,
Ch ristmas in lands of th e
palm tree and vine;
Ch ristmas wh ere
snow peaks stand solemn and wh ite,
Ch ristmas wh ere
corn fields lie sunny and brigh t;
Everywh ere, everywh ere,
Ch ristmas tonigh t.
Ch ristmas wh ere
ch ildren are h opeful
and gay,
Ch ristmas wh ere
old men are patient and gray,
Ch ristmas wh ere
peace, like a dove in its fligh t,
Broods o’er brave men in th e
th ick of th e
figh t;
Everywh ere, everywh ere,
Ch ristmas tonigh t.
For th e Ch rist
ch ild wh o
comes is th e Master of all
No place too great and no cottage too small;
Th e Angels wh o
welcome Him sing from th e h eigh t,
“In th e city of David h t.”
Everywh ere, everywh ere,
Ch ristmas tonigh t.
Th en let every h eart
keep its Ch ristmas with in
Ch rist’s pity for sorrow, Ch rist’s
h atred for sin.
Ch rist’s care for th e
weakest, Ch rist’s courage for righ t,
Ch rist’s dread of th e
darkness, Ch rist’s love of th e
ligh t.
Everywh ere, everywh ere,
Ch ristmas tonigh t.
So th e stars of th e
midnigh t
wh ich compass
us round
Sh all see a strange glory,
and h ear a sweet sound,
And cry, “Look! Th e earth
is aflame with deligh t,
O Sons of th e morning,
rejoice at th e sigh t.”
Everywh ere, everywh ere,
Ch ristmas tonigh t.
Words: Bish op Ph illips
Brooks (1835-1893)
Source: Ph illips
Brooks h ristmas
Songs and Easter Carols (New York: E.P.
Dutton & Co., 1903)
Music by Lewis Henry Redner
