By: Ardis E. Parshall - June 02, 2015 Not Comfortless By Beatrice K. Ekman In a manger, on the fragrant hay,She laid her newborn Son,Unmindful that his destined wayTo Calvary would run. My son was born on a costly bed;I cradled him in down;He lies where crosses mark the deadIn the fields of an alien town. She who had wept at CalvaryBeheld the risen Lord,And I, when heartbreak came to me,Found comfort in his word. (1946) ...
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