Nativity
Not only far away and long ago,
With wondering joy and prescience of woe,
Came God to man on that transfiguring morn,
But now, but now, with wordless ecstasy,
Yet trembling for a grief that is to be,
In every mother's bosom Christ is born.
With wondering joy and prescience of woe,
Came God to man on that transfiguring morn,
But now, but now, with wordless ecstasy,
Yet trembling for a grief that is to be,
In every mother's bosom Christ is born.
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