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His swaddled frame was calm embraced by straw
while heaven sang an ode of praise in rhyme
and snow began to sigh and fall in awe,
before the sun with streams of light could shine.
The flakes were soft in starry nights of praise
as amber’s moon held light beside his bed
with beams upon His face in golden rays.
His holy name a song that cherubs led.
The world will bend its knees and laud His name
then speak a psalm in verse that glory blest,
the angels choir will chime their song’s refrain
and faith will lay our sinful deeds to rest.
Though born into a life of suffering
a baby’s crib now holds a sacred King.
© By Marilyn Terwilleger (mterwilleger@bresnan.net)
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