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A Babe He came one heart to bless
(It is His cradle still),
And evermore her blessedness
Is theirs who do His will;
A Child He trod the Temple-floor,
By Mary Mother led;
By children’s voices evermore
His praise is perfected.
’Forbid them not,’ He said of old:
The words so stern and sweet
Still make believing mothers bold
To gather at His Feet,
