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CHRIST'S NATIVITY.

Then swift to

every startled eye,

New streams of glory light the sky;
Heaven bursts her azure gates, to pour
Her spirits to the midnight hour.

On wheels of light, on wings of flame,
The glorious hosts of Zion came;

High heaven with songs of triumph rung,
While thus they struck their harps and sung;

O Zion! lift thy raptured eye,
The long expected hour is nigh;
The joys of nature rise again,
The Prince of Salem comes to reign.

See, Mercy, from her golden urn,
Pours a rich stream to them that mourn :
Behold, she binds with tender care
The bleeding bosom of Despair.

He comes! to cheer the trembling heart
Bids Satan and his hosts depart;
Again the day-star gilds the gloom,
Again the bowers of Eden bloom!

O Zion! lift thy raptured eye,
The long expected hour is nigh;
The joys of nature rise again,

The Prince of Salem comes to reign.

CAMPBELL

The Jewish Captives' Lament.

By Babylon's rivers we sat down and wept
And our once-pleasing harps on the willows we

hung,

For Zion was still in remembrance kept,

And the thoughts of captivity silenced each tongue.

They that carried us captive demanded a song,

And ask'd us for mirth in the midst of our woes, But how can we smile when our fetters are strong, Or sing Zion's songs in the ears of our foes?

Ah, no! for our hearts are with bitterness torn, When we think on the dearly loved land of our birth;

And all that is left us to do is to mourn

Happy days that for ever have vanish'd from earth.

Jerusalem! never shalt thou be forgot

Till our hearts cease to beat in the struggles of

death,

While living we 'll bless thee, whatever our lot,

And will die with thy name on our last-sounding

breath!

WILLIAM GURNER.

Co-Morrow.

How sweet to the heart is the thought of To-morrow, When Hope's fairy pictures bright colours dis

play:

How sweet when we can from futurity borrow
A balm for the griefs that afflict us to-day.

When wearisome sickness hath taught me to languish

For health and the comforts it bears on its wing, Let me hope (O how soon it will lessen my anguish !)

That To-morrow will ease and serenity bring.

When trav'lling alone, quite forlorn, unbefriended, Sweet the hope, that To-morrow my wand'rings

will cease:

That at home, with all care sympathetic attended, I shall rest unmolested, and slumber in peace.

Or, when from the friends of my heart long divided,

The fond expectation with joy how replete ! That from far-distant regions, by Providence guided, To-morrow will see us most happily meet.

When six days of labour each other succeeding, With hurry and toil have my spirits oppress'd, What pleasure to think, as the last is receding, To-morrow will be a sweet sabbath of rest.

And when the vain shadows of time are retiring, When life is fast fleeting, and death is in sight The Christian believing, exulting, expiring, Beholds a To morrow of endless delight.

J. BROWN.

The Offering.

WITH blood-but not his own--the awful sign
At once of sin's desert and guilt's remission,
The Jew besought the clemency divine,

The hope of mercy blending with contrition.
Sin must have death! Its holy requisition
The law may not relax. The opening tomb
Expects its prey! mere respite, life's condition;
Nor can the body shun its penal doom.
Yet, there is mercy: wherefore else delay
To punish? Why the victim and the rite?
But can the type and symbol take away

The guilt, and for a broken law requite?
The CROSS unfolds the mystery: Jesus died:
The sinner lives: the law is satisfied!

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FAREWELL TO A DEPARTED FRIEND.

With blood-but not his own-the Jew drew near The mercy-seat, and heaven received his prayer. Yet still his hope was dimm'd by doubt and fear: "If thou shouldst mark transgression, who might

dare

To stand before Thee!" Mercy loves to spare
And pardon, but stern Justice has a voice,
And cries-Our God is holy, nor can bear
Uncleanness in the people of his choice."
But now ONE OFFERING, ne'er to be renew'd,
Hath made our peace for ever.
This now gives
Free access to the Throne of Heavenly Grace.

No more base fear and dark disquietude,

He who was slain-the accepted Victim-lives, And intercedes before the Father's face.

JOSIAH CONder.

Farewell to a Departed Friend.

THOU art gone to the grave-but we will not deplore thee;

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb,

The Saviour has passed through its portals before

thee,

And the lamp of his love is thy guide through

the gloom.