by Nancy Buckley
There is faint music in the night,
And pale wings fanned by silver flight;
A frosty hill with tender glow
Of countless stars that shine on snow.
A shelter from the winter storm,
A straw-lined manger, safe and warm,
And Mary crooning lullabies,
To hush her Baby's sleepy sighs.
Her eyes are rapt upon His Face,
Unheeded here is time and space;
Her heart filled with blinding joy,
For God's own Son--her little Boy!
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