(Bridges/Holdridge)
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A frosty Christmas Eve, when the stars where shining,
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I traveled for the home, where westward falls the hill.
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And for many, many a village, in the darkness of the valley,
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distant music reached me, peels of bells were ringing.
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Then spread my thoughts to olden times, to that first of Christmases
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when shepherds who were watching, heard music in the fields.
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And they sat there and they marveled, and they knew they could not tell
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whether it were angels, or the bright stars a singing.
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But to me heard a far, it was starry music,
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the singing of the angels, the comfort of our Lord.
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Words of old that come a traveling, by the riches of the times,
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and I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill.
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And I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill.
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Noel: Christmas Eve 1913
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John Denver |