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It was against this backdrop of personal pain and national division that Longfellow sat alone on Christmas Day 1864, a 57-year-old widowed father of six, his eldest son still healing from near-paralysis as his nation bled. The bells of Cambridge rang out their yearly message of “peace on earth, good will to men,” but the words seemed to mock the reality of his world. Yet as he listened, something profound began to stir in his poet’s heart. The resulting verses would move from despair to defiant hope:
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