Page:Florence Earle Coates Mine and Thine 1904 005.jpg



that divine all-hallowed morn

When Christ in Bethlehem was born,

How lone did Mary seem to be,

The kindly beasts for company!

Yet when she saw her infant's face—

Fair with the soul's unfading grace,

Softly she wept for love's excess,

For painless ease and happiness.

She pressed her treasure to her heart—

A lowly mother, set apart

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