When that dire signal shall be given,
For earth to melt with fervent heat,
And the cleft firmament unseat
The keystone of the arch of heaven,

Then He, pre-eminently bright,
To each his true desert shall pay;
To these the everlasting day,
To those the fire and outer night.

Then, Salem, thou shalt taste in pain

The lightnings of His cross, and find

Whom, through thy spite, the grave could bind, But not the grave itself detain.

J. R. S. (from the Latin).

"RUN, shepherds, run, where Bethlehem blest appears, We bring the best of news, be not dismayed,

A Saviour there is born, more old than years,

Amidst heaven's rolling heights this earth who stayed;
In a poor cottage inned, a virgin maid

A weakling did Him bear, who all upbears;

There is He poorly swaddled, in manger laid,

To whom too narrow swaddlings are our spheres:

Run, shepherds, run, and solemnise His birth.

This is that night,-no, day grown great with bliss,
In which the power of Satan broken is,

In heaven be glory, peace unto the earth.”

Thus singing through the air the angels swam,
And cope of stars re-echoed the same.

William Drummond.

"O THAN the fairest day, thrice fairer night!
Night to best days! in which a sun doth rise,
Of which that golden eye, which clears the skies,

Is but a sparkling ray, a shadow light:

And blessed ye, in silly pastors' sight,

Mild creatures, in whose warm crib now lies
That heaven-sent Youngling, holy-maid-born Wight,
Midst, end, beginning of our prophecies:

Blest cottage that hath flowers in winter spread,
Though withered, blessed grass, that hath the grace
To deck, and be a carpet to that place."

Thus sang, unto the sounds of oaten reed,
Before the Babe, the shepherds bowed on knees,
And springs ran nectar, honey dropped from trees.
William Drummond.

Ir was the calm and silent night!

Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might,

And now was queen of land and sea!
No sound was heard of clashing wars;
Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain;
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, and Mars,

Held undisturbed their ancient reign,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!

'Twas in the calm and silent night! The senator of haughty Rome Impatient urged his chariot's flight,

From lordly revel rolling home! Triumphal arches, gleaming, swell

His breast with thoughts of boundless sway:

What recked the Roman what befel

A paltry province far away,

In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!

Within that province far away,

Went plodding home a weary boor;

A streak of light before him lay,

Fallen through a half-shut stable-door Across his path. He paused, for nought

Told what was going on within :

How keen the stars! his only thought;
The air how calm, and cold, and thin,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!

Oh, strange indifference! — low and high, Drowsed over common joys and cares ; The earth was still, but knew not why;

The world was listening-unawares!

How calm a moment may precede

One that shall thrill the world for ever!
To that still moment none would heed

Man's doom was linked, no more to sever,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!

It is the calm and silent night!

A thousand bells ring out, and throw
Their joyous peals abroad, and smite

The darkness-charmed and holy now!
The night that erst no shame had worn,
To it a happier name is given;

For in the stable lay, new-born,

The peaceful Prince of earth and heaven,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!

Alfred Domett.

No room for Judah's daughter, David's Heir,
In their own city? There was greater dearth
Of loyal faith than room. That wondrous birth,
Which the glad choirs of heaven in songs declare,
Mortals regard not. Room was none to spare,

Or in the crowded khan or halls of mirth,
For Him, the Prince of all the kings of earth!
The Holy Family a stable share!