O ye 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
Oh rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing
From an 1849 poem by Edmund Sears
"It Came Upon a Midnight Clear"
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A Man, His Mule and John Barleycorn
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