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[Underscore Four begins.]
NARRATOR:
Yet with the woes of sin and strife, the world has suffered long. Beneath the angel
strain have rolled two thousand years of wrong. And man, at war with man, hears
not the love-song which they bring. O hush the noise, all you of strife, and hear the
angels sing! And you, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low.
Who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow. Look now! For glad
and golden hours come swiftly on the wing: O rest beside the weary road, and hear
the angels sing.
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