A CHRISTMAS CAROL
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Come, weary ones, with care oppressed,
Cease earth-born care and strife. Come children, too, rejoice in life, The Holy Child is born. Disease and sorrow, yea, e'en death, Have reigned on earth too long; Her rightful monarch praise in song, The Child of Bethlehem. Behold the night in silence wrapped, With perfect peace bespread, The star above Christ's infant head Which guides the Wise Men there. Glad angels guard yon manger-bed; Now hearken how they sing The praises of their new-born King, The Child of Bethlehem. |