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ON EPIPHANY.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

ON EPIPHANY.

Hail wondrous dawn of heavenly grace,
The Lord is born in Bethlehem;
Gentiles and Jews the King embrace,
Whose head shall bear the diadem.
With wonder trace, the star of love,
Which guides the sages of the East;
It seems on silver wheels to move,
And beckon to a royal feast.
Sing, oh ye heavens, yes souls rejoice,
To the remotest bounds of earth;
And let creation lift her voice,
In triumph of the Saviour's birth.
Salvation's planet from the skies,
Shines forth deliverance to man;
Whilst in a stall the Saviour lies,
The infant of a glorious plan.

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Hark! dont you hear the turtle dove,
Proclaim thro' the wilderness;
Give way, ye craggy rocks remove,
And melt before the sun of peace.
He comes with fire, the wilds to search,
To bring the stubborn at his feet;
And to disciplinize the church,
And render all the law complete.
Fain would I to the manger fly,
And greet Him with a thousand charms;
And then like faithful Simeon die,
With Mary's infant in my arms.