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Rh And like the rose whose sweets outlive Its gay and fleeting bloom, May I fair virtue's odour give E'en from the silent tomb.

 

on the night the Lord was born, When through the festive town A stranger child, and all forlorn, Went wandering up and down.

At every house he stopp'd to gaze, Where, hung with stars of light, The Christmas-tree shot forth its rays Through many a window bright.

Then wept the child, "Alas for me, Here wandering all alone! To-night all have their Christmas-tree, But I—poor I—have none!

I too have play'd round such at home, With sisters hand in hand; And now a stranger child I roam, Unpitied in the land.

"No loving smile awaits me now, O holy Christ and dear; Except thou love me, only thou, I am forgotten here."

He spoke, when lo, with wand of light And voice how heavenly sweet, Another child, all rob'd in white, Came gliding up the street. 