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Christmas | ||
| Angels hail a baby's birth. 'Tis the Savior come to earth, In a lowly stable born On a dark and chilly morn. After Mary gets a rest She will take him to her breast, Never dreaming then that He Has to die on Calvary. Yet his power will endure, Of that fact we can be sure. Hail the babe of Bethlehem, King who comes from Jesse's stem. | ||
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