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Homewards weary man plods from his labour;
From the dim vale comes the low of the oxen ;
Still are the woods, and the wings of the small birds
Folded in slumber.

Thou art the lover's star! thou to his fond heart
Ecstasy bequeathest; for, beneath thy soft ray,
Underneath the green trees, down by the river, he
Waits for his fair one.

Thou to the sad heart beacon art of solace-
Kindly the mourner turns his gaze towards thee,
Past joys awakening, thou bidst him be of comfort,
Smiling in silence.

Star of the mariner! when the dreary ocean
Welters around him, and the breeze is moaning,
Fondly he deems that thy bright eye is dwelling
On his home afar off :

On the dear cottage, where sit by the warm hearth,
Thinking of the absent, his wife and his dear babes,
In his ear sounding, the hum of their voices

Steals like a zephyr.

Farewell, thou bright star! when woe and anguish
Hung on my heart with a heavy and sad load,
When not a face on the changed earth was friendly
Changeless didst thou smile.

Soon shall the day come, soon shall the night flee,
Thou dost usher in darkness and daylight;

Glitterest through the storm, and, 'mid the blaze of morning,

Meltest in glory.

Thus through this dark earth holds on the good man, Misfortune and malice tarnish not his glory;

Soon the goal is won, and the Star of his being

Mingles in heaven.

MOIR.

THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.

HE world lay hushed in slumber deep,
And darkness veiled the mind,

When rose upon their shadowy sleep The Star that saves mankind.

It dawns o'er Bethlehem's holy shed,
And, scattering at the sight,
Heaven's idol-host at once have fled
Before that awful light.

Led by the solitary Star
To glory's poor abode,

Lo! wondering wisdom, from afar,

Brings incense to her God.

Humility, on Judah's hills,

Watching her fleecy care,

Turns to an angel voice that fills
With love the midnight air.

Like voices through yon bursting cloud,

Announce the Almighty plan;

Hymning in adoration loud,

"Peace and goodwill to man!"

CAMPBELL.

THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.

HEN marshalled on the nightly plain, The glittering host bestud the sky; One Star alone, of all the train, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye.

Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks,

From every host, from every gem;

But one alone the Saviour speaks,
It is the Star of Bethlehem.

Once on the raging seas I rode

The storm was loud, the night was dark;
The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed
The wind that tossed my foundering bark.

Deep horror then my vitals froze;
Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem;
When suddenly a star arose-

It was the Star of Bethlehem.

It was my guide, my light, my all;
It bade my dark forebodings cease;
And through the storm, and danger's thrail,
It led me to the port of peace.

Now safely moored, my perils o'er,
I'll sing, first in night's diadem,

For ever and for evermore,

The Star! the Star of Bethlehem!

WHITE.

THE VOICE OF SPRING.

COME, I come! ye have called me long;
I come o'er the mountains with light and song!
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,

By the winds that tell of the violet's birth,

By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,

By the green leaves opening as I pass.

I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers, By thousands have burst from the forest-bowers;

And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes,

re veiled with wreaths on Italian plains.

But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom,
To speak of the ruin or the tomb!

I have passed o'er the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung all his tassels forth;
The fisher is out on the sunny sea,

And the rein-deer bounds through the pasture free;
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,

And the moss looks bright where my step has been.

I have sent through the wood-paths a gentle sigh,
And called out each voice of the deep blue sky;
From the night-bird's lay through the starry time,
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,
When the dark fir-bough into verdure breaks.

From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain;

They are sweeping on to the silvery main,

They are flashing down from the mountain-brows,
They are flinging spray on the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.

Come forth, O ye children of gladness, come!
Where the violets lie may now be your home.
Ye of the rose cheek and dew-bright eye,
And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly,
With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay,
Come forth to the sunshine, I may not stay!

Away from the dwellings of careworn men,
The waters are sparkling in wood and glen;
Away from the chambers and dusky hearth,
The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth;
Their light stems thrill to the wild wood strains,
And youth is abroad in my green domains.

But ye! ye are changed since ye met me last;
A shade of earth has been round you cast!
There is that come over your brow and eye
Which speaks of a world where the flowers must die!
Ye smile! but your smile hath a dimness yet.
Oh! what have ye looked on since last we met?

Ye are changed, ye are changed! and I see not here
All whom I saw in the vanished year!

There were graceful heads, with their ringlets bright,
Which tossed in the breeze with a play of light;
There were eyes, in whose glistening laughter lay
No faint remembrance of dull decay.

There were steps that flew o'er the cowslip's head,
As if for a banquet all earth were spread;

There were voices that rung through the sapphire sky,

And had not a sound of mortality!—

Are they gone? is their mirth from the green hills passed!

Ye have looked on death since ye met me last!

I know whence the shadow comes o'er ye now,
Ye have strewn the dust on the sunny brow!
Ye have given the lovely to the earth's embrace-
She hath taken the fairest of Beauty's race!
With their laughing eyes and their festal crown,
They are gone from amongst you in silence down.

They are gone from amongst you, the bright and fair;
Ye have lost the gleam of their shining hair!

But I know of a world where there falls no blight

I shall find them there, with their eyes of light!
Where Death 'midst the blooms of the morn may dwell,
I tarry no longer-farewell, farewell!

The Summer is hastening, on soft winds borne; may press the grape, ye may bind the corn!

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