Advent Song

Sweep the dust from all your corners, Stoke the fire, let it burn warm and bright Light the windows with candles aburning The King is coming, we must greet him aright The doors are open, the windows unbarred, to greet the coming Savior O come, O Lord, the impoverished Babe, the angel's King, in straw was laid Four times seven, we keep our vigil. Four times seven, the old songs we sing While the winds of winter blow o'er us With gladsome tongues, the good tidings ring The doors are open, the windows unmarred, to greet the coming Savior O come, O Lord, the impoverished Babe, the angel's King, in straw was laid O come, O Lord, the impoverished Babe, the angel's King, in straw was laid Our hearts are restless till they rest in you Return, O Lord, return come soon