Читать книгу A Budget of Christmas Tales by Charles Dickens and Others - Коллектив авторов, Ю. Д. Земенков, Koostaja: Ajakiri New Scientist - Страница 6

We love to think of Bethlehem,

That little mountain town,

To which, on earth's first Christmas Day,

Our blessed Lord came down.

A lowly manger for His bed,

The cattle near in stall,

There, cradled close in Mary's arms,

He slept, the Lord of all.

If we had been in Bethlehem,

We too had hasted fain

To see the Babe whose little face

Knew neither care nor pain.

Like any little child of ours,

He came unto His own,

Through Cross and shame before Him stretched, —

His pathway to His Throne.

If we had dwelt in Bethlehem,

We would have followed fast,

And where the Star had led our feet

Have knelt ere dawn was past.

Our gifts, our songs, our prayers had been

An offering, as He lay,

The blessed Babe of Bethlehem,

In Mary's arms that day.

Now breaks the latest Christmas Morn!

Again the angels sing,

And far and near the children throng

Their happy hymns to bring.

All heaven is stirred! All earth is glad!

For down the shining way,

The Lord who came to Bethlehem,

Comes yet, on Christmas Day.