By IVA MAY TERRY.
(Who is blind.)
Within a quiet little town,
So many years ago,
The little stars were looking down,
The ground was white with snow.
Among their number glittered one
More brightly than the rest,
Leading to where God’s blessed Son
Lay on His mother’s breast.
The wise men traveled day and night
Until they reached the place
Where, guided by that star so bright,
They saw the Savior’s face.
Ah! Babe divine of humble birth,
And yet how rich was He,
God sent Him down from heaven to earth
To die for such as we.
While here He bore our griefs and pains,
And then for us He died,
But now to-day He lives and reigns,
A Savior glorified.
Green Island, N. Y.
Troy Times. December 24, 1913: 7 col 1.
Christopher K. Philippo