A frosty Christmas Eve, when the stars where shining   I traveled for the home, where westward falls the hill   And for many, many a village, in the darkness of the valley   distant music reached me, peels of bells were ringing.      Then spread my thoughts to olden times, to that first of Christmases   when shepherds who were watching, heard music in the fields   and they sat there and they marveled, and they knew they could not tell   whether it were angels, or the bright stars a-singing      But to me heard a far, it was starry music   the singing of the angels, the comfort of our Lord   words of old that come a traveling, by the riches of the times   and I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill   and I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill