Abbildungen der Seite

in her warm corner; and don't go out of suredly have written, not the song, but a school without me."

song of the shirt; for once when she was That afternoon the two girls went hand questioned as to the dull monotony of her in hand to Jessie's door.

work: “Dull ? Delightful!" said Annie, “ Have you plenty to eat, if you've no | in advocacy of her calling. “Why, with fire?" asked Annie.

this rare linen and fine thread, my stitches “ This is the first day mother has been seem like stringing little pearls along the forced to send me to school without any wristbands and collar !" What an antibreakfast," said Jessie, hanging down her song of the shirt might not Annie hare head, as if ashamed of the confession. written!

“Here,” said Annie, after a slight Annie's eighteenth birthday was celepause, untwisting the paper in which were brated by a tea-party to all the seamstresses deposited her first earnings ; “I won't go of Mr. Seamwell's establishment, where in with you, for your mother might not like she was now forewoman; besides being a to take it from a little girl like me ; but — cheerful, kind-hearted little creature, beand she put two shillings into Jessie's loved by everybody, it was a compliment, hand—“ that is to buy you something to Mr. Seamwell said, she well deserved eat, and a fire; and if your mother can her admirable superintendence of the desew as well as I can,” said Annie, with partment allotted her having increased his pardonable vanity, “I can tell her how to business tenfold. get plenty of money to pay for both.”

Some time after, there was a greater No wonder Annie's riches increased : day of rejoicing in the firm of Seamwell the first investment was a good one. and Co. The father had taken his son as Nevertheless, the concealing it from her a partner, and the son took a partner for parents she knew to be wrong; she feared life-the indefatigable little seamstress, they would disapprove; and she added to Annie Linton. There never was a blither her little prayer at night, after the usual bridal. Annie-herself having risen from ending of “God bless father and mother- the ranks-had a present for every workand forgive me for keeping secret that I woman. Indeed it was a day of presents, helped Jessie Wilson." Could the re- for on that very morning, and in time to cording angel carry up a purer prayer to be worn at the wedding, a shawl arrived heaven?

for Annie all the way from India-an InOf course, Mr. and Mrs. Linton very dian shawl that a duchess would have ensoon discovered that Mr. Seamwell, of the vied! Upon it was pinned a paper, on “ Ready-made Linen Warehouse," was which was written : “ Wear this for the the grand source of Annie's wealth. He sake of one who is now rich and happy, said there was no one who could work like but who never can forget the service you her, and that he would give her eighteen- rendered to the poor school-girl-JESSIE pence each for the finest description of Wilson." shirt-making. This was no great payment “ Annie,” said young Seamwell after for Annie's exquisite stitching-and, thirty the marriage, “I fell in love with you years ago, it would have brought her three-when you were a child, and came to our and-sixpence a shirt. But Annie is of the shop for your first sewing. I also happresent, not of the past ; and as she could pened to be passing when you gave part complete a shirt a day, her fingers flying of your first earnings to Jessie Wilson. I swifter than a weaver's shuttle, she earned was a boy then, but I said to myself: 'If nine shillings a week.

I were a man, I'd marry Annie Linton : “Good wife,” said Mr. Linton, ó we not because she's so pretty'-here Annie are not so poor but that we can maintain blushed most becomingly-'not because our daughter till she's twenty, and by that she's so industrious, but because she's so time, at the present rate of her earnings, she kind-hearted.'” will have a little fortune in the bank." But this little fortune amassed but slowly, Nothing can be very ill with us when all for Annie seldom had nine shillings to put is well within : we are not hurt till our by at the end of the week—there were souls are hurt. If the soul itself be out other " Jessie Wilsons" who required food of tune, outward things will do us no more and fire.

good than a fair shoe to a gouty foot.Had Annie been a poet, she would as- | Sibs.

[graphic][merged small]



CHRISTMAS TIDE, BY SHAKSPEARE. The wrathful winter, 'proaching on a-pace SOME say that ever 'gainst that season comes,

With blust'ring blast, had all ybared the treen; | Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, And old Saturnus, with his frosty face,

The bird of dawning singeth all night long; With chilling cold had pierced the tender And then, they say, no spirit dares stir green;

abroad; The mantle rent wherein enwrappèd been The nights are wholesome; then no planets The gladsome groves that now lay overthrown. strike, The tapers torn, and many a tree down blown ; No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to The soil, that erst so seemly used to seem,

charm, Was all despoiled of her beauties' hue,

So hallow'd, and so gracious is the time. And stole fresh flowers, (where with the Sum

mer's queen Had clad the earth,) now Boreas' blast down blew; THE SHEPHERDS' SONG. And small fowls flocking, in their songs did rue

BY EDMUND BOLTON. The Winter's wrath, wherewith each thing, defaced,

SWEET Music, sweeter far In woeful wise bewail'd the Summer past :

Than any song is sweetHawthorn had lost his motley livery,

Sweet Music, heavenly rare, The naked twigs were shivering all for cold,

Mine ears, 0 peers, doth greet. And, dropping down the tears abundantly,

You gentle flocks—whose fleeces, pearld with

10 Each thing, methought, with weeping eye me

a dew,

Resemble Heaven, whom golden drops The cruel season, bidding me withhold

make brightMyself within.

Listen, O listen, now; O not to you
Our pipes make sport to shorten weary


But voices most divine Next came the chill December :

Make blissful harmonyYet he, through merry feasting which he made

Voices that seem to shine; And great bonfires, did not the cold remember;

For what else clears the sky? His Saviour's birth his mind so much did glad : Tunes can we hear, but not the singers see: Upon a shaggy bearded goat he rode

The tune's divine, and so the singers be. The same wherewith Dan Jove in tender years,

Lo, how the firmament They say, was nourish'd by the lean maid;

Within an azure fold, And in his hand a broad deep bowl be bears,

The flock of stars hath pent, Of which he freely drinks a health to all his

That we might them behold. peers.

| Yet from their beams proceedeth not this light, Lastly, came Winter clothèd all in frieze,

Nor can their crystals such reflection give; Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill; What then doth make the element so bright:? While on his hoary beard his breath did freeze, The heavens are come down upon earth to live. And the dull drops, that from his purpled bill,

But hearken to the song: As from a limbeck, did adown distill:

Glory to glory's King, In his right hand a tipped staff he held,

And peace all men among, With which his feeble steps he stayed still;

These choristers do sing. For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld, Angels they are, as also shepherds, he That scarce his loosèd limbs he able was to wield. Whom in our fear we do admire to see.

Vol. V.-41

This favor Christ vouchsafed for our

sake; To buy us thrones, he in a manger

lay; Our weakness took, that we his

strength might take;
And was disrobed that he might

us array:
Our flesh he wore,

Our sin to wear away;
Our curse he bore,

That we escape it may; And wept for us, that we might sing

for aye. With angels, therefore, sing again,

To God on high all glory be;

For peace on earth bestoweth be, And showeth favor unto men.

[graphic][merged small]



God rest you, merry gentlemen,

Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour

Was born upon this day;
To save us all from Satan's power,

When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on

Christmas day.

Let not amazement blind

Your souls, said he, annoy;
To you and all mankind

My message bringeth joy.
For lo, the world's great Shepherd now is born,

A blessed Babe, an Infant full of power: After long night, up-risen is the

Renowning Bethlem in the Sa-

Sprung is the perfect day,

By prophets seen afar;
Sprung is the mirthful May,

Which Winter cannot mar.
In David's city doth this Sun ap-

pear, Clouded in flesh, yet shepherds sit

we here.



BY GEORGE WITHERS, As on the night before this happy

morn, A blessed angel unto shepherds

told, Where (in a stable) He was poorly

born, Whom nor the earth, nor heaven

of heavens can hold: Through Bethlem rung This news at their re

turn; Yea, angels sung That God with us was

born; And they made mirth because we

should not mourn.

Their angel-carol sing we then,

To God on high all glory be,
For peace on earth bestoweth

he, And showeth favor unto men.

“ Now to the Lord sing praises."

[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed][merged small]

From God, our heavenly Father,

A blessed angel came, And unto certain shepherds

Brought tidings of the same; How that in Bethlehem was born The Son of God by name.

O tidings, &c.


When rosemary, and bays, the poets' crown,
Are bawl'd in frequent cries through all the town;
Then judge the festival of Christmas near,-
Christmas, the joyous period of the year.
Now with bright holly all your temples strew,
With laurel green, and sacred mistletoe.
Now, heaven-born Charity! thy blessings shed;
Bid meagre Want uprear her sickly head;
See, see! the heaven-born maid her blessings

Lol meager Want uprears her sickly head;
Clothed are the naked, and the needy glad,
While selfish Avarice alone is sad.

Fear not, then said the angel,

Let nothing you affright; This day is born a Saviour,

Of virtue, power, and might, So frequently to vanquish all The friends of Satan quite.

O tidings, &c.

The shepherds at those tidings

Rejoiced much in mind, And left their flocks a-feeding

In tempest, storm, and wind, And went to Bethlehem straightway, This blessed Babe to find.

O tidings, &c.

But when to Bethlehem they came,

Where as this infant lay, They found him in a manger

Where oxen feed on hay, His mother Mary kneeling Unto the Lord did pray.

O tidings, &c.


(From Poor Robin's Almanack.) Now after all our slaving, toiling, In harvest or hot weather broiling, The scorching weather's gone and past, And shivering winter's come at last. Good fires will now do very well, For Christmas cheer begins to smell. Those that in summer labored hard, Are for a Christmas storm prepared ; And from their store are able now To feast themselves and neighbors too, With pork and mutton, veal and beefOf country feasting, these are chief; . But those that yet would farther go, May have a hollow bit or so, Pig, capon, turkey, goose and coney, Whatever may be had for money; Such plenteous living's their enjoyment, Who truly follow their employment, While slothful, lurking, idle drones Do scarce deserve to pick the bones.

Now to the Lord sing praises,

All you within this place, And with true love and brotherhood

Each other now enabrace, This holy tide of Christmas All others doth deface.

O tidings, &c.

[graphic][merged small][merged small]

W E give in our present number several are the scenes which he looked upon the

W illustrated Christmas poems from Holy Mount, which once bore the Temple the elder poets; and add the above moon- -that Mount Olivet which once overlight view of Bethlehem, the birth-place looked Jerusalem-we know that Mount of Christ, as a suitable counterpart to Gerizim still overhangs the Valley of them.

Shechem—that there is the hill where once We may not be able to determine the stood Samaria—that there is Nazareth, exact spot where Christ was crucified, within whose secluded vale our Lord so or point to the cave in which, for part of long awaited the time appointed for his three days, his body lay ; nor is the lo- public ministry—the plain of Gennesareth, cality from which he ascended to heaven as. and the Sea of Galilee—the mountains to certainable. The Scriptures are silent, and which he retired—the plains in which he no other authority can supply the informa- wrought his miracles—the waters which tion. But we know that in the Holy Land | he trod, and the Jordan, still rolling its

« ZurückWeiter »