SONG OF THE ANGELS.

YALM on the listening ear of night

Where wild Judæa 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 dayspring from on high.

On 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 Christmas morn.

Edmund Hamilton Sears.

BETHLEHEM AND GOLGOTHA.

N Bethlehem He first arose,

IN

From whom we draw our true life's breath; And Golgotha at last he chose,

Where his cross broke the power of death.
I wandered from the Western strand,
Through strange scenes of the Morning Land;
But naught so great did I survey
As Bethlehem and Golgotha.

The ancient wonders of the world

Here rose aloft, the mighty Seven;
How was their transient glory hurled
To earth before the might of Heaven!
In passing, I could see and tell
How all their pride to ruin fell ;
There stood in quiet Gloria
But Bethlehem and Golgotha.

Cease, Pyramids of Egypt, cease!

The toil that built you never gave
The faintest thought of Death's great peace,-
"T was but the darkness of a grave.
Ye Sphinxes, in colossal stone!

The riddle Life an unread one

Ye left;

the answer found its way Through Bethlehem and Golgotha.

O Rocknabad, earth's Paradise,

Of all Shiraz the sweetest flower!

Ye Indian sea-coasts, breathing spice,
Where groves of palm in beauty tower;
I see o'er all your sunny plains
The step of Death leave sable stains.
Look up! There comes a deathless ray
From Bethlehem and Golgotha.

Thou Caaba! black stone of the waste,
At which the feet of half our line
Yet stumble. Stand, now, proudly braced
Beneath thy crescent's waning shine!
The moon before the sun grows dim;
Thou art shattered by the sign of Him,
The conquering Prince. "Victoria!"
Shout Bethlehem and Golgotha.

O Thou, who in a shepherd-stable
An infant willingly hast lain,

And through the cross's pain wert able
To give the victory over pain!

To pride the manger seems disgrace;

The cross a vile, unworthy place;

But what shall bring this pride down? Say! "Tis Bethlehem and Golgotha.

The Magi kings went forth to see

The Shepherd Stock, the Paschal Lamb;

And to the cross on Calvary

The pilgrimage of nations came.

Amidst the battle's stormy toss,

All flew to splinters, but the Cross;

As East and West encamping lay
Round Bethlehem and Golgotha.

O, march we not in martial band,
But with the Spirit's flag unfurled!
Let us subdue the Holy Land

As Christ himself subdued the world.
Let beams of light on every side
Fly, like Apostles, far and wide,
Till all men catch the beams that play
O'er Bethlehem and Golgotha.

With pilgrim staff and scallop-shell

Through Eastern climes I sought to roam;
This counsel have I found to tell,
Brought from my travels to my home:-
With staff and scallop do not crave
To see Christ's cradle and his grave.
Turn inward! there in clearest day
View Bethlehem and Golgotha.

O heart! what helps it, that the knee
Upon his natal spot is bended?
What helps it, reverently to see

The grave from which he soon ascended?
Let him within thee find his birth;
And do thou die to things of earth,
And live him; let this be for aye

Thy Bethlehem and Golgotha.

Friedrich Rückert. Tr. N. L. Frothingham.

WHAT

RACHEL'S TOMB.

HAT mouldering pile near Ephrath stands alone, With dome-shaped top, and base of massy stone? Rude is the chamber where her bones repose, Yet here, 't is said, fair Rachel's pillar rose. Ah! sad her fate in Nature's pangs to die; To sorrowing friends I hear her parting sigh; I see her husband's woe, his streaming tear, His last fond kiss before he laid her here, His anguished brow, where smiles no more would be, For ne'er was wife, poor Rachel! loved like thee.

Nicholas Michell.

THE THREE KINGS.

THREE Kings came riding from far away,

Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar;

Three Wise Men out of the East were they,
And they travelled by night and they slept by day,
For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.

The star was so beautiful, large, and clear,
That all the other stars of the sky
Became a white mist in the atmosphere,

And by this they knew that the coming was near
Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.

Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows,
Three caskets of gold with golden keys;