The Song Book, p. 16

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69. Sâ€"Mâ€"Iâ€"Lâ€"E (151) ?ea; one, rest! t le ni It isn‘t any trouble just to sâ€"mâ€"iâ€"lâ€"e, nhere sgiztt;'sab e mebt Infls the day on Oh, it isn‘t any trouble just to s-nfilâ€"i-lâ€"e. Sweet, goodâ€"night! If you smile when you‘re in trouble N To th f It will vanish like a bubble, 4 ui an 2l o If you‘ll only take the trouble just to â€" Love, sweet dreams! sâ€"mâ€"iâ€"lâ€"e. Lo, the beams of the light fairy moon $ kiss thedstreizms; ove, goodâ€"night! 70. STARS OF THE SUMMER Ah, too soon! Peaceful dreams! NIGHT (214) gtare of hthe summer night, 74. ADESTE FIDELES (1007) ar in the azure deeps t Hide, hide your golden lyight, 0 come, all ye faithful Joyful and triumphant, Shih:IeseleZpss’hglgliidg Srlrprli’d r sissns O come ye, 0 come ye to Bethlchem. PS $a, iny Juny sipeps. Come and gehom Him, d Born the King of Angels: Moon of the summer night, § 1 ; ~ Far down yon western steeps, O come, let us adore Him, Sink, sink in silver light, O come, let us adore H!m’ She sleeps, my lady sleeps, 8hc9ntle€hletLus.dadore Him, She sleeps, she sleeps, my lady sleeps. M# o sinne. ging choirs of Angels, : ing in exultation 71. SWEET AND LOW (176) Silng all ye citizens of heavin above: Glory to Godâ€", Sweet and low, sweet and low, Inoa)]e ?figiest glory! Wind of the western sea; O come, let us adore Him Low, low, breathe and blow, 0 come, let us adore Him, Wind of the western sea. O come, let us adore Him, Over the rolling waters go, Christ éhe Lord. ‘ Come from the dying moon and blow; Blow him again to me,. While my little one, while my pretty one 75. GOOD KING WENCESLAS (100i) sleeps. 8oodthng Wen%esslas %]ook’d out n the Feast o tephen # 72. SWEET GENEVIEYE (173) I‘;Vhen thie snow lag round’about, cep and crisp and even; g(;lenevievg, I’ghgi\lre t}ie world| B}l;ightly shoné the moon that night, o live again the lovely past! Tho‘ the frost was cruel The rose of youth was dewâ€"impearl‘d, When a poor man came ‘in sight, But now it withers in the blast. Gath‘ring winter fuel. I see thy face in every dream, My waking thoughts are full of thee; "Hither, page, and stand by me, Thy glance is in the starry beam If thou know‘st it, telling; That falls along the summer sea. Yonder peasant, who is he? ¢ j velling ?" O Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, '\')‘é}illre:,e’}xgrili]v:éh:tglfleddl‘gfl;l:?};encc, The days may come, the days may go, Underneath the mountain; But still the hands of mem‘ry weave Right against the forest fence, The blissful dreams of long ago. By Saint Agnes‘ fountain." In his master‘s steps he trod, 73. TAPS (40) ghere the sn%w lay dinted; eat was in the very sod J Fading light dims the sight, Which the saint had printed; Arllld z;.] star gems the sky, gleaming Therleiore, Cht]i(stian men, be sure, right, Wealth or rank possessing, From afar drawing nigh, Ye who now will bless the poor, Falls the night. Shall yourselves find blessing. " E V ER Y B O Db Y S I N G S " Page Fourteen

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