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-