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O Christ of God! whose life and death
      Our own have reconciled,
Most quietly, most tenderly
      Take home thy star-named child!

Thy grace is in her patient eyes,
      Thy words are on her tongue;
The very silence round her seems
      As if the angels sung.

Her smile is as a listening child's
      Who hears its mother's call;
The lilies of Thy perfect peace
      About her pillow fall.

She leans from out our clinging arms
      To rest herself in Thine;
Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we
      Our well-beloved resign.

O, less for her than for ourselves
      We bow our heads and pray;
Her setting star, like Bethlehem's,
      To Thee shall point the way!