Fear the voice of Christmas Present—
Heavenly speech in mortal tongue—
Childhood's lips translating pæans
By its fellow-cherubs sung.

He that read aright the language
Held communion with Above,
Standing near to God and childhood
In democracy of love;

Winning weary hearts to gladness,
From the world's harsh pain and care;
Bearing hope and joy to sadness;
Teaching patience to despair.

Breathe his name in nought of sorrow,
Mourn him not as of the dead,
Though the gentle master's spirit

Death ends well Life's undelight,
Yet Life shudders at Death's sight.

Life the dark hand sees, but not
What it brings, the clear cup bright.

So at sight of Love a heart
Fears that it must perish quite.

Only Self, the tyrant dark,
He must perish in Love's might —

That the heart may truly live,
Breathing free in Love's pure light.

I NUMBER you by thousands, unseen friends,
And dearly precious is your love to me;
Yea, what a goodly company ye be!
For as the noble brotherhood extends
Of Saxon hearts and tongues o'er land and sea:
How rich am I in love!—the sweet amends
For all whatever little else of pain
Some few unkindly cause; most rich in love,
From mine own home to earth's remotest ends:
Let me then count my store, my glorious gain.
This wealth, that my poor merit far transcends,
Your loving kindness, echoing from above

Ah , Memory! why reproach me so
With shadows of the past,
The thrilling hopes of long ago
That came and went so fast?
Ye tender tones of that dear voice,
Ye looks of those loved eyes,
Return, and bid my heart rejoice,
For true love never dies!

Rejoice?—O, word of hope! I may
When those indeed return;
For looks and tones so past away
In solitude I yearn!
Let others fancy I forget
The light of those dear eyes:
I love—O, how I love thee yet!
For true love never dies.

The Poor Lover.

Biting poverty and cruel Cupid are my foes. Hunger I can endure; love I cannot.

I LOVE , I love Thee, Lord most high!
Because Thou first hast loved me;
I seek no other liberty
But that of being bound to Thee.

May memory no thought suggest,
But shall to Thy pure glory tend;
My understanding find no rest
Except in Thee, its only end.

My God, I here protest to Thee,
No other will have I than Thine;
Whatever Thou hast given me,
I here again to Thee resign.

All mine is Thine, — say but the word,
Whate'er Thou willest shall be done;
I know Thy love, all-gracious Lord;

Source of all love and power,
The soul's true friend and home;
Who on the cross our foe subdued;
Speak thou the word, and let the good
The evil overcome.

Thou who didst bid the day
Burst from the gloom of night,
Speak, and the darkness shall depart
From the deep midnight of this heart,
And all within be light.

Joy of the saints in light,
Song of the heavens above,
Be thou the joy of earth below,
Be thou the song its dwellers know,
Centre of bliss and love!

1.

J ESU , the very thought of Thee
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter far Thy face to see,
And in Thy presence rest!

Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the memory find,
A sweeter sound than Thy blest Name,
O Saviour of mankind!

O hope of every contrite heart!
O joy of all the meek!
To those who fall, how kind Thou art!

Art thou a saint? And doth
Thy God thee own?
Call thee a child, an heir, a chosen one,
One with himself and his beloved Son,
Heir of his crown?

Hast thou the love of Christ
Thy Saviour known? —
The love that passeth knowledge, the rich grace
That stooped to poverty and death, to place
Thee on his throne?

Know'st thou the Christ of God?
His cross and love?
Then art thou severed from this drossy earth,

For lack of love I languish,
For lack of light I pine;
Good Jesu, soothe my anguish,
And heal this soul of mine;
This soul whose only rest
Is on thy soft and loving breast.

From lack of strength I'm sinking,
O give me strength divine;
And let me still be drinking,
Each day, the heavenly wine;
The wine that cheers the heart
And bids its feebleness depart.

For lack of faith I'm failing,
Hand, heart, and head are low;
Exulting and prevailing,
Comes on my hellish foe.
Make haste, O Mighty One,