“The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap, His hair was like a light.
(Oh weary, weary was the world, but here is all alright.)
Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child, make thee bed, soft, undefiled
Within my heart, that it may be, a quiet chamber, kept for Thee.
My heart for very joy does leap, my lips no more can silence keep,
I must sing with joyful tongue, that sweetest ancient cradle song.”
-G. K. Chesterton
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