What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till the little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies, she flies away.
What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
Let me rise and fly away.
Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby too shall fly away.
IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR.
It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold:
"Peace to the earth, good will to man, from heaven's all-gracious
The earth in solemn stillness lay, to hear the angels sing. [King."
Still thro' the cloven skies they come, with peaceful wings unfurled;
And still celestial music floats o'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains they bend on heavenly wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds, the blessed angels sing!
O ye, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way, with painful steps and slow,
Look up! for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing:
Oh, rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing!
For lo, the days are hastening on, by prophet bards foretold, When with the ever-circling years comes round the age of gold! When peace shall over all the earth its final splendors fling, And the whole world send back the song which now the angels sing!
While shepherds watched their flocks by night, all seated on the ground,
The angel of the Lord came down, and glory shone around. Fear not, said he, for mighty dread had seized their troubled mind; Glad tidings of great joy I bring to you and all mankind.
To you, in David's town, this day, is born of David's line,
The Saviour who is Christ the Lord, and this shall be the sign:
The heavenly Babe you there shall find, to human view displayed,
All meanly wrapt in swathing bands, and in a manger laid!
Thus spake the seraph, and forthwith appeared a shining throng
Of angels, praising God, who thus addressed their joyful song:
All glory be to God on high, and to the earth be peace;
Good-will henceforth from heaven to men begin and never cease.
HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS.
Hark! the herald angels sing, “Glory to the new born King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled."
Joyful, all ye nations, rise, join the triumph of the skies:
With the angelic host proclaim, “Christ is born in Bethlehem."
Christ, by highest heaven adored; Christ, the everlasting Lord;
Late in time behold him come, offspring of the favored one.
Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see; hail the incarnate Deity:
Pleased, as man, with men to dwell, Jesus, our Immanuel!
Hail! the heaven-born Prince of peace! Hail! the Sun of Right-
Light and life to all he brings, risen with healing in his wings. Mild he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die: Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth.
CALM ON THE EAR OF NIGHT.
Calm on the list'ning ear of night come heaven's melodious strains,
Where wild Judea stretches far her silver-mantled plains.
Celestial choirs from courts above shed sacred glories there;
And angels, with their sparkling lyres, make music on the air.
The answering hills of Palestine send back the glad reply;
And greet, from all their holy heights,the Day Spring from on high.
O'er the blue depths of Galilee there comes a holier calm,
And Sharon waves, in solemn praise, her silent groves of palm.
"Glory to God!" the sounding skies loud with their anthems ring,
Peace to the earth, good-will to men, from heaven's eternal King!"
Light on thy hills, Jerusalem! the Saviour now is born!
And bright on Bethlehem's joyous plains breaks the first Christ-
[mas morn.
Over the green downs when I do wander,
After the ewes and lambs, thus oft I ponder:
When comes the Shepherd that is full tender,
He will of all His own true reck ning render.
When through the dark night deep the snow drifteth,
And many lambs are lost ere the storm lifteth,
Then comes the Shepherd; though the dark blind me,
Lord, 'twill be light to Thee; straight thou wilt find me.
Oft as the day comes, each drear December,
How shepherds sat of old still I remember,
How Thou didst send them news from Thy city,
All of Thy good-will and tender pity.
CHRISTMAS CAROL.
There's a song in the air!
There's a star in the sky!
There's a mother's deep prayer
And a baby's low cry!
And the star rains its fire while the Beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king.
There's a tumult of joy
O'er the wonderful birth,
For the virgin's sweet boy
Is the Lord of the earth;
Ay ! the star rains its fire and the Beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king!
In the light of that star
Lie the ages impearled;
And that song from afar.
Has swept over the world.
Every hearth is aflame, and the Beautiful sing
In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King.
We rejoice in the light,
And we echo the song
That comes down through the night
From the heavenly throng.
Ay! we shout to the lovely evangel they bring,
And we greet in his cradle our Saviour and King!
"What means this glory round our feet,"
The Magi mused, "more bright than morn," And voices chanted clear and sweet,
To day the Prince of Peace is born!"
"What means this star," the shepherds said, That brightens thro' the rocky glen?" And angels answering, overhead,
Sang, Peace on earth, good-will to men!"
'Tis eighteen hundred years and more,
Since those sweet oracles were dumb;
We wait for Him, like them of yore!
Alas! He seems so slow to come!
But it was said, in words of gold
No time or sorrow e'er shall dim,
That little children might be bold,
In perfect trust to come to Him.
All round about our feet shall shine,
A light like that the wise men saw,
If we our loving wills incline
To that sweet Life which is the Law,
So shall we learn to understand
The simple faith of shepherds, then,
And kindly clasping hand in hand,
Sing, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid; Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
Cold on his cradle the dewdrops are shining,
Low lies his head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore him in slumber reclining
Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all.
Say, shall we yield him, in costly devotion,
Odors of Edom and offerings divine?
Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine?
Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
Vainly with gifts would his favor secure; Richer by far is the heart's adoration,
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
202.-AFAR IN THE DESERT.
THOMAS PRINGLE.
Afar in the desert I love to ride,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side,
When the sorrows of life the soul o'ercast,
And, sick of the present, I cling to the past;
When the eye is suffused with regretful tears,
From the fond recollections of former years;
And shadows of things that have long since fled
Flit over the brain, like the ghosts of the dead,-
Bright visions of glory that vanished too soon;
Day-dreams that departed ere manhood's noon;
Attachments by fate or falsehood reft;
Companions of early days lost or left,
And my native land, whose magical name
Thrills to the heart like electric flame;
The home of my childhood; the haunts of my prime;
All the passions and scenes of that rapturous time
When feelings were young, and the world was new,
Like the fresh bowers of Eden unfolding to view;
All, all now forsaken, forgotten, foregone!
And I, a lone exile remembered of none,
My high aims abandoned, my good acts undone,
Aweary of all that is under the sun,
With that sadness of heart which no stranger may scan
I fly to the desert afar from man.
Afar in the desert I love to ride,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side,
When the wild turmoil of this wearisome life,
With its scenes of oppression, corruption, and strife,
The proud man's frown, and the base man's fear,
The scorner's laugh, and the sufferer's tear,
And malice, and meanness, and falsehood, and folly,
Dispose me to musing and dark melancholy;
When my bosom is full, and my thoughts are high,
And my soul is sick with a bondman's sigh,—
O, then there is freedom, and joy, and pride,
Afar in the desert alone to ride!
There is rapture to vault on the champing steea,
And to bound away with an eagle's speed,
With the death-fraught firelock in my hand,-
The only law of the Desert Land!
Afar in the desert I love to ride,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side.
Away, away from the dwellings of men,
By the wild deer's haunt, by the buffalo's glen;
By valleys remote where the oribi plays,
Where the gnu, the gazelle, and the hartbeest graze,
And the koodoo and eland unhunted recline
By the skirts of gray forest o'erhung with wild vine;
Where the elephant browses at peace in his wood,
And the river-horse gambols unscared in the flood,
And the mighty rhinoceros wallows at will
In the fen where the wild ass is drinking his fill.
Afar in the desert I love to ride,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side,
O'er the brown karroo, where the bleating cry
Of the springbok's fawn sounds plaintively;
And the timorous quagga's shrill whistling neigh
Is heard by the fountain at twilight gray;
Where the zebra wantonly tosses his mane,
With wild hoof scouring the desolate plain;
And the fleet-footed ostrich over the waste
Speeds like a horseman who travels in haste,
Hying away to the home of her rest,
Where she and her mate have scooped their nest,
Far hid from the pitiless plunderer's view
In the pathless depths of the parched karroo.
|