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Hark, the glad sound! The Saviour comes,
The Saviour promised long;
Let every heart exult with joy,
And every voice a song!
He comes, the prisoners to relieve,
In Satan’s bondage held;
The gates of brass before him burst,
The iron fetters yield.
Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace,
Thy welcome shall proclaim;
And heaven’s exalted arches ring
With thy most exalted name.
Scottish Paraphrase 1781
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The
darkest time of the year,
The poorest place in the town,
Cold, and a taste of fear, Mary and Joseph alone,
What can we hope for here?
More
light than we can learn,
More wealth than we can treasure,
Move love than we can earn,
More peace than we can measure,
Because one child is born.
By kind permission of the estate of Christopher Fry |
On
Christmas Eve the nurse assembled the children in her ward and started
to read them the Nativity story from the Bible. When she reached the
part where the three Kings presented their presents to Jesus one child’s
excitement burst, and she exclaimed’ “Nurse, have you read
this story before?” The nurse replied “Oh, many times”.
“Well,” said the child, “You don’t show it!”
Do our faces show that we have read and understood the story?
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