Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells

All seem to say throw cares away

Christmas is here bringing good cheer

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Said the night wind to the little lamb, do you see what I see

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It came upon a midnight clear that glorious song of old

Of angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold

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Hark the herald angels sing

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For unto us a child us born

Unto us a son is given

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Silver bells speak of joy,  night winds whisper promise, angels bend near with harps to announce, Herald angels sing of glory, Kings bring gifts that bespeak royalty/life/death and Isaiah writes 700 years in advance…

And the red cup declares what?

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”