THE CHRISTMAS HERALDS. THE heralds of Christmas the happy, are heard; As cheerfully warble as warbles the bird, And fingers of glory are fringing the night, And visions of angels are rising in light, But what of the dawn in the distant deep- And what of the vision that mounts the steep? There's life in the light of the mounting dawn; Delight in the look of the sign; The promise of pleasure and peace unknown ; Of grace and of glory divine! The heralds of Christmas in music are heard, NEW YEAR'S EVE; OR, THE GOING AND THE COMING. ONE is going with its joyfulness and sorrow,- Calm and clear; Then we 'll sing a farewell measure The New Year. One is going, yea, for ever, and for ever; Taking life away and giving, Far and near ; Still we sing a farewell measure To the Old Year; and, with pleasure, The New Year. One is going like the writing of a record, Sword and spear; With the pictures of the tearful, And of those who soothed the fearful, Goes the Year. One is coming like the marching of the morning, As a minister of heaven to the lands; There are rounds of rosy rays his brow adorning; There are overtures of blessing in his hands: 'If," saith he, "ye truly would be Heirs of glory, as ye should be, Then, give ear; God, for every soul that seeketh, All the bars of bondage breaketh!”’ The New Year. So one goeth with its pleasure and its sorrow— For though cloud be darkly o'er us, Blessing beameth yet before us, Calm and clear; Therefore sing a solemn measure The New Year. A LESSON OF OLD AGE. YOUTH, to the future, may indeed For what shall be in time to come, Is not an open page; But though prophetic voice be dumb, Yet speaks the voice of age. A youth in great but silent grief, And cherished much the sad belief, A sage, he found, of fourscore years; Too feeble far to roam : 'Tis no poor peace, or joy that cheers A heart, so nearly home. 'Yet," said the youth, "about his face, As not of ill afraid, A happy smile of hope and grace,— "Beside his cottage-garden gate, "Cast down ?” said he, as I approach'd, In mild reproving tone; "Has sin upon thy soul encroach'd, Thou look'st so lost and lone ? "Will cherish'd sorrow ease the heart? Out banish thought so vain! Will poison'd dart improve the smart ? The cause content the pain ? 6c Come, search for sources of relief; And, look thyself within; If sin be not the source of grief, Then grief itself is sin. |