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CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE.
JESUS CHRIST, my Lord and Saviour,
Once became a child like me; O that in my whole behaviour
He my pattern still might be. All my nature is unholy;
Pride and passion dwell within; But the Lord was meek and lowly,
And was never known to sin. While I'm often vainly trying
Some new pleasure to possess, He was always self-denying,
Patient in his worst distress.
Let me never be forgetful
Of his precepts any more; Idle, passionate, and fretful,
As I've often been before.
Lord, though now thou art in glory,
We have thine example still : I can read thy sacred story,
And obey thy holy will.
Help me by that rule to measure
Every word and every thought;
TEACHING FROM THE STARS.
STARS, that on your wondrous way
Travel through the evening sky,
To such a little child as I ?
Yes, methinks I hear you say,
“ Child of mortal race, attend; " While we run our wondrous way,
“Listen; we would be your friend; “ Teaching you that Name Divine, “By whose mighty word we shine. “ Child, as truly as we roll
“Through the dark and distant sky, “ You have an immortal soul,
“Born to live when we shall die. “Suns and planets pass away: “Spirits never can decay.
When some thousand years, at most,
“All their little time have spent, “One by one our sparkling host
“Shall forsake the firmament. “We shall from our glory fall ; “You must live beyond us all.
“ Yes, and God, who bade us roll,
“God, who hung us in the sky,
“Stoops to watch an infant's soul
“With a condescending eye;
“O then, while your breath is given,
“Let it rise in fervent prayer;
“ To receive your spirit there,
JESUS CHRIST is risen to-day,
Hymns of praises let us sing
But the pains which he endured,
PART THE SECOND.
THE LAST MINSTREL.
THE way was long, the wind was cold,
A wandering harper, scorned and poor,
T'he feast was over in Branksome Tower,
The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all ;
Knight, and page, and household squire Loitered through the lofty hall,
Or crowded round the ample fire : The stag-hounds, weary with the chase,
Lay stretched upon the rushy floor, And urged, in dreams, the forest race,
From Teviot-stone to Eskdale-moor.
Nine-and-twenty knights of fame
Hung their shields in Branksome Hall;
Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall