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The First ChristmasLong the dusty road, On a donkey wearily trod, New born the baby boy, A special gift from God, Distraught parents in Bethlehem, No room nor bed no shelter, Could be found for them, At last offerings, a manger, A lowly cattle shed, For the new born child, To lay down his sweet head, All the beasts of the fields, Are gathered round, Reverentially gazing on, Making not a sound, This night our redeemer, The Son of God is born, Whom three wise men, With presents devotedly adorn, We now each Christmas time, Give thanks when we sing, Our praises to the baby, Our Savior, Jesus Christ our King. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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