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JESUS CHRIST, my Lord and Saviour,

Once became a child like me; O that in my whole behaviour

He my pattern still might be.

All my nature is unholy;

Pride and passion dwell within; But the Lord was meek and lowly,

And was never known to sin.

While I'm often vainly trying

Some new pleasure to possess, He was always self-denying,

Patient in his worst distress.

Let me never be forgetful

Of his precepts any more; Idle, passionate, and fretful,

As I've often been before.

Lord, though now thou art in glory,

We have thine example still : I can read thy sacred story,

And obey thy holy will.

Help me by that rule to measure

Every word and every thought;
Thinking it my greatest pleasure,
There to learn what thou hast taught.


STARS, that on your wondrous way

Travel through the evening sky, Is there nothing you can say

To such a little child as I ? Tell me, for I long to know, Who has made you sparkle so ?

Yes, methinks I hear you say,

“ Child of mortal race, attend; “ While we run our wondrous way, “Listen; we would be your friend;

; “ Teaching you that Name Divine, “By whose mighty word we shine.


“Child, as truly as we roll

“Through the dark and distant sky, You have an immortal soul,

“ Born to live when we shall die. “Suns and planets pass away: “Spirits never can decay.

“When some thousand years, at most,

“All their little time have spent, “ One by one our sparkling host

“ Shall forsake the firmament. “We shall from our glory fall; “You must live beyond us all.

“Yes, and God, who bade us roll,

“God, who hung us in the sky,


“Stoops to watch an infant's soul
“With a condescending eye;

“And esteems it dearer far,
“ More in value than the star!



• O then, while your breath is given,

"Let it rise in fervent prayer;
And beseech the God of heaven

* To receive your spirit there,
“ Like a living star to blaze,
“Ever to your Saviour's praise."



JESUS CHRIST is risen to-day,
Our triumphant holiday; Halleluiah !
Who so lately on the cross
Suffered, to redeem our loss, Halleluiah !

Hymns of praises let us sing
Unto Christ our heavenly King, Halleluiah !
Who endured the cross and grave,
Sinners to redeem and save, Halleluiah !

But the pains which he endured,
Our salvation have procured; Halleluiah!
Now above the sky he's King,
Where the angels ever sing Halleluiah !





The way was long, the wind was cold,
The Minstrel was infirm and old ;
His withered cheek, and tresses gray,
Seemed to have known a better day ;
The harp, his sole remaining joy,
Was carried by an orphan boy.
The last of all the bards was he,
Who sung of Border chivalry;
For, well-a-day! their date was fled,
His tu ful brethren all were dead;
And he, neglected and oppressed,
Wished to be with them, and at rest.
No more, on prancing palfrey borne,
He carolled, light as lark at morn;
No longer courted and caressed,
High placed in hall, a welcome guest,
He poured, to lord and lady gay,
The unpremeditated lay ;
Old times were changed, old manners gone;
A stranger filled the Stuart's throne;
The bigots of the iron time
Had called his harmless art a crime.

A wandering harper, scorned and poor,
He begged his bread from door to door;
And tuned, to please a peasant's ear,
The harp a king had loved to hear.



THE feast was over in Branksome Tower,
And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ;
Her bower that was guarded by word and by spell,
Deadly to hear, and deadly to tell
No living wight, save the Ladye alone,
Had dared to cross the threshold stone.

The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all ;

Knight, and page, and household squire Loitered through the lofty hall,

Or crowded round the ample fire : The stag-hounds, weary with the chase,

Lay stretched upon the rushy floor, And urged, in dreams, the forest race,

From Teviot-stone to Eskdale-moor.

Nine-and-twenty knights of fame

Hung their shields in Branksome Hall ;
Nine-and-twenty squires of name
Brought them their steeds from bower to stall;

Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall
Waited, duteous, on them all :

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