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14 To God the Father and the Son All praise and power and glory be, With thee, O sacred Paraclete, Both now and through eternity.

 

, my tongue, the Saviour's glory, Sing with joy and holy mirth; Tell aloud the famous story Of his spotless virgin birth: How he comes, an infant stranger, Here to dwell with us on earth.

Now the long-expected fulness Of the sacred time draws nigh; Now for us the Word eternal Leaves his Father's throne on high; From a virgin's womb appearing, Cloth'd in our mortality.

All within a lowly manger, Lo, a helpless Babe he lies; See, his gentle virgin Mother Lull to sleep his infant cries, While the limbs of God incarnate Round with swathing bands she ties.

Blessing, honour everlasting To th' immortal Deity; To the Father, Son, and Spirit, Equal adoration be. Prais'd be thou through earth and heaven, Sempiternal Unity.

