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VII.

"A murderous fiend, by fiends ador'd,

He kills the Sire and starves the Son;
The Husband kills, and from lier board
Steals all his Widow's toil had won;
Plunders God's world of beauty; rends away
All safety from the Night, all comfort from the Day."

VIII.

"Then wisely is my soul elate,

That Strife should vanish. Battle cease:
I'm poor and of a low estate,
The Mother of the Prince of Peace.
Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn:
Peace, Peace on Earth, the Prince of Peace is born."