And

sung in solemn verse mysterious truth. The sacred characters they knew to trace

Derived from Egypt's elder race;

And all that Greece, with copious learning fraught,
Through different schools, by various masters taught;
And all Arabia's glowing store

Of fabled truths and rich poetic lore;

Stars, plants and gems, and talismans they knew, And far was spread their fame, and wide their praises grew.

The admiring East their praises spread:
But with uncheated eyes themselves they viewed;
Mourning they sat with dust upon their head,
And oft in melancholy strain

The fond complaint renewed,

How little yet they knew, how much was learned in vain. For human guilt and mortal woe,

Their sympathising sorrows flow;

Their hallowed prayers ascend in incense pure;
They mourned the narrow bounds assigned
To the keen glances of the searching mind,
They mourned the ills they could not cure,
They mourned the doubts they could not clear,
They mourned that prophet yet, nor seer,
The great Eternal had made known,

Or reached the lowest step of that immortal throne.

And oft the starrv cope of heaven beneath,

When day's tumultuous sounds had ceased to breathe,

With fixed feet, as rooted there,

Through the long night they drew the chilly air; While sliding o'er their head,

In solemn silence dread,

The ethereal orbs their shining course pursued,
In holy trance enwrapt the sages stood,

With folded arms laid on their reverend breast, And to that Heaven they knew, their orisons addrest.

A Star appears they marked its kindling beam,
O'er night's dark breast unusual splendours stream:
The lesser lights that deck the sky,

In wondering silence softly gliding by,

At the fair stranger seemed to gaze,

Or veiled their trembling fires, and half withdrew their rays.

The blameless men the wonder saw,
And hailed the joyful sign with pious awe;
They knew 'twas none of all the train
With which, in shadowy forms and shapes uncouth,
Monsters of earth and of the main,

Remote from nature as from truth,

Their learned pens the sky had figured o'er:
No star with such kind aspect shone before;
Nor e'er did wandering planet stoop so low

To guide benighted pilgrims through this vale of woe.

The heavenly impulse they obey,

The new-born light directs their way; Through deserts never marked by human tread,

And billowy waves of loose unfaithful sand,

O'er many an unknown hill and foreign strand

The silver clue unerring led,

And peopled towns they pass, and glittering spires;

No cloud could veil its light, no sun could quench its fires.

Thus passed the venerable pilgrims on,

Till Salem's stately towers before them shone,

And soon their feet her hallowed pavements prest;

Not in her marble courts to rest,—

From pomp and royal state aloof,

Their shining guide its beams withdrew;

And points their path, and points their view,
To Bethlehem's rustic cots, to Mary's lowly roof.

There the bright sentinel kept watch,
While other stars arose and set;

For there, within its humble thatch,

Weakness and power, and heaven and earth were met. Now, sages, now your search give o'er,

Believe, fall prostrate, and adore!

Here spread your spicy gifts, your golden offerings here; No more the fond complaint renew

Of human guilt and mortal woe,

Of knowledge checked by doubt, and hope with fear:
What angels wished to see, ye view :

What angels wished to learn, ye know ;—

Peace is proclaimed to man, and heaven begun below.

Mrs. Barbauld.

FAIR eastern star, that art ordained to run
Before the sages, to the rising sun,

Here cease thy course, and wonder that the cloud
Of this poor stable can thy Maker shroud :
Ye, heavenly bodies, glory to be bright,
And are esteemed as ye are rich in light :

But here on earth is taught a different way,
Since under this low roof the Highest lay;
Jerusalem erects her stately towers,

Displays her windows, and adorns her bowers;
Yet there thou must not cast a trembling spark,
Let Herod's palace still continue dark ;

Each school and synagogue thy force repels,
There Pride, enthroned in misty errors, dwells.
The temple where the priests maintain their quire,
Shall taste no beam of thy celestial fire.
While this weak cottage all thy splendour takes,

A joyful gate of every chink it makes.

Here shines no golden roof, no ivory stair,

No king exalted in a stately chair,

Girt with attendants, or by heralds styled,
But straw and hay enwrap a speechless Child;
Yet Saba's lords before this Babe unfold

Their treasures, offering incense, myrrh, and gcl.
The crib becomes an altar; therefore dies
No ox nor sheep, for in their fodder lies

The Prince of Peace, who, thankful for His bed,
Destroys those rites, in which their blood was shed:
The quintessence of earth He takes and fees,
And precious gums distilled from weeping trees,
Rich metals and sweet odours now declare
The glorious blessings which His laws prepare.

Sir John Beaumont.