When God's own child came down to earth,
High heaven was very glad;
The angels sang for holy mirth;
Not God himself was sad!
Shall we, when ours goes homeward, fret?
Come, Hope, and wait on Sorrow!
The little one will not forget;
It's only till to-morrow!
A Father To A Mother
George Macdonald
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Poem topics: child, heaven, hope, sad, sorrow, earth, wait, glad, forget, holy, high, god, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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