The Singers

O heilige Nacht, ich singe dir!

O Holy Night, my song now be!Proudly I ope my heart to thee.A nightingale, dark boughs among,Poured forth her dreaming soul in song—I sang not.

O Morning Light, to thee I sing!—Upsprang the lark on joyous wing.And, soaring ever near the sky,Sang praises to the Lord on High—I sang not.Scherenberg.