from a night of passion and mortal delight-

a gift from God- the gift is life-

and sometimes unaware of the passing hours-

this  life, attended, grow from ours.

you love and you weep.

you tire from being on your feet..

yet- walk on and be strong- and try, oh try- to make it last.

for the miracle- may someday leave you in the past.-

if  you loose sight of what a wonderful being-

is this Child, is this life, that God doth bring-