Homewards weary man plods from his labour; Thou art the lover's star! thou to his fond heart Thou to the sad heart beacon art of solace- Star of the mariner! when the dreary ocean On the dear cottage, where sit by the warm hearth, Steals like a zephyr. Farewell, thou bright star! when woe and anguish Soon shall the day come, soon shall the night flee, 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, When rose upon their shadowy sleep The Star that saves mankind. It dawns o'er Bethlehem's holy shed, Led by the solitary Star 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 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, Once on the raging seas I rode The storm was loud, the night was dark; Deep horror then my vitals froze; It was the Star of Bethlehem. It was my guide, my light, my all; Now safely moored, my perils o'er, For ever and for evermore, The Star! the Star of Bethlehem! WHITE. THE VOICE OF SPRING. COME, I come! ye have called me long; 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, I have passed o'er the hills of the stormy North, And the rein-deer bounds through the pasture free; And the moss looks bright where my step has been. I have sent through the wood-paths a gentle sigh, 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, Come forth, O ye children of gladness, come! Away from the dwellings of careworn men, But ye! ye are changed since ye met me last; Ye are changed, ye are changed! and I see not here There were graceful heads, with their ringlets bright, There were steps that flew o'er the cowslip's head, 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, They are gone from amongst you, the bright and fair; But I know of a world where there falls no blight I shall find them there, with their eyes of light! The Summer is hastening, on soft winds borne; may press the grape, ye may bind the corn! |