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 Did You hear the cries of the groping blind, The woe of the leper's prayer, The surging sorrow of all mankind, As You lay by Your Mother there? Beyond the shepherds, low bending down, The long, long road did You see That led from peaceful Bethlehem town To the summit of Calvary?

The world grown weary of wasting strife, Had called for the Christ to rise; For sin had poisoned the springs of life And only the dead were wise. But, wrapped in a dream of scornful pride, Too high were its eyes to see A Child, foredoomed to be crucified, On a peasant Mother's knee.

But, while the heavens with glad acclaim Sang out the tale of Your birth, A mystic echo of comfort came To the desolate souls of earth. For the thrill of a slowly turning tide Was felt in that grey daybreak, As if God, the Father, had sanctified All sorrow for One Man's sake.

O Child of the Promise! Lord of Love! O Master of all the earth! While the angels are singing their songs above, We bring our gifts to Your birth.