On a January morning
I heard the strangest sound,
For when I woke, as if 'twas Spring,
The birds began to sing.
They sang their song so freely
With joy that knew no bounds.
The song they sang was heavenly;
Melodic were the sounds.
They sang, "The Savior's coming.
Go tell it o'er the land.
This is the glorious coming
That long ago was planned!"
They took to flight at once, I saw,
And began to sing as one.
"The Lord is come! The Savior's come!
The one true God's own Son!"
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