Twas in the stillness of the night that Jesus came
No blare of trumpets heralded his birth
Nor broke the wonted silence of the earth
No clang of bells or blatant hue and cry
Disturbed the calm beneath the Bethlehem sky
When Jesus came 'twas night
And the world was still

Tis to the quiet heart he loves to come
Not often 'midst the tumult of the day
When we can find small time to think or pray
Or when, confused by agitating care
We find no secret place for him to share
We must be still if we his voice would hear
Tis to the quiet heart he loves to come