CHRISTMAS HYMN.

WHILE shepherds watch'd their flocks by night,

All seated on the ground,
The angel of the Lord came down,

And glory shone around.

"Fear not," said he (for mighty dread
Had seiz'd their troubled mind);
"Glad tidings of great joy I bring
To you and all mankind.

"To you, in David's town, this day
Is born, of David's line,

The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord;
And this shall be the sign:

"The heavenly babe you there shall find
To human view display'd,

All meanly wrapp'd in swathing bands,
And in a manger laid.”

Thus spake the seraph, and forthwith
Appear'd a shining throng
Of angels, praising God, and thus
Address'd their joyful song:

"All glory be to God on high,
And to the earth be peace;
Good-will henceforth from heav'n to men
Begin, and never cease.”

MOTHER AND CHILD.

BEHOLD a little baby boy,

A happy babe is he;
His face how bright,
His heart how light,

His throne his mother's knee.

Now in her face with laughing eye
I see him gaily peep;

And now at rest

Upon her breast

He gently sinks to sleep.

His lips are red, his teeth like pearls ;

The rogue! he has but two;

His golden hair

How soft and fair,

His tiny hands are white and plump: And, waking or asleep,

Beneath his clothes

His little toes,

How cunningly they peep!

Oh, many things are beautiful:
The bird that sings and flies,
The setting sun

When day is done,

The rainbow in the skies.

My own pet lamb is innocent,

And full of play is he;

The violet,

With dew-drops wet,

Is sweet and fair to me.

But there is one more beautiful,
Gay, tender, sweet, and mild:
A baby boy,

With heart of joy—
A loved and loving child.

GOOD LITTLE FRED.

WHEN little Fred was called to bed,
He always acted right;

He kiss'd papa, and then mamma,
And wish'd them both "good night."

He made no noise, like naughty boys,
But quietly up stairs

Directly went, when he was sent,

And always said his

prayers.

SPRING.

I'm very glad the Spring is come-the sun shines out so bright,

The little birds upon the trees are singing for delight, The young grass looks so fresh and green, the lambkins sport and play,

And I can skip and run about as merrily as they.

I like to see the daisy and the buttercups once more,
The primrose, and the cowslip too, and every pretty flower.
I like to see the butterfly fluttering her painted wing,
And all things seem, just like myself, so pleased to see the
Spring.

The fishes in the little brook are jumping up on high,
The lark is singing sweetly as she mounts into the sky;
The rooks are building up their nests upon the great tall tree,
And everything's as busy and as happy as can be.

There's not a cloud upon the sky, there's nothing dark or sad;
I jump, and scarce know what to do, I feel so very glad.
God must be very good indeed who made each pretty thing:
I'm sure we ought to love Him much, for bringing back the
M. A. Stodart.

Spring.