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Many mansions, Lord, are Thine
In the universe, Thy home; Glowing planets bear Thy sign, Seething yet with primal foam. Star-clouds, still a shapeless horde, Nascent cells And burned-out shells, Unborn worlds that wait Thy word Hold Thee as their tenant, Lord. Yet no fairer home is Thine Than the fields of Autumn Earth, Where the fruit of tree and vine Spread a feast of matchless worth; Every field her gift hath sent, All the year her labor spent; Every man hath shared his gain From the wealth of mine and plain. Yes, the stars of newer birth By their beauty praise Thy name, All the heavens joining Earth Thy wide bounty to proclaim; All Thy mansions, Lord are fair, Yet can none with Earth compare, For Thy Holy Son dwelt there, When He came, man's life to share. |
ON EASTER DAY
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My waking eyes
Behold new skies With Easter's dawning glory bright. Since Thou didst rise New meaning lies In morning's young, transforming light. For Thou art the dawn of the world, dear Lord, Our Christ of the breaking day. Death was the night And Thou, the first light That showed where God's pathway lay; Sin was the dark And Thou, the first spark That rolled the late shadows away. Thou art the dawn of the world, dear Lord, Our Christ of the coming day. |
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. |
THE MESSAGE OF THE CHIMES
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“Joy to all, this Christmas morn,
Christ our Saviour has been born.” Peal the chimes in yonder steeple Ringing forth to all the people. “Joy to all, this Christmas morn! None are friendless, none forlorn. Those whose hearts by grief were saddened By the Saviour's birth are gladdened. “Joy to all this Christmas morn! Barrier gold and selfish scorn Vanish, while in hymns of praise Rich and poor their voices raise. “Joy to all this Christmas morn! Overflowing plenty's horn, Wondrous treasures round us fall, Gifts from God to great and small. “Nature's gift's a cloak of snow, Under which to live and grow; But to man is given love, Love of Christ, from God above.” |