<| God sent His only Son into the world,
Great men before Him lifted scepters high, And great men since— but how their names recedel Himself was lifted, for our sins to die, His body broken for our human need— And where scant months their meager glories dim, Full nineteen hundred years have left us Him.
And in His hands He placed a power to bless;
I Upon His brow was peace, about Him curled The glorious garments of His righteousness. He walked the way of men, and, like a man, He wept with sorrow and with ¡oy He smiled; I Though He was God, and God's redemptive plan, He was more humble than a little child. IP
— Helen Frazee-Bower.
H IS M O N U M E N T
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