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Christmas Dreams
CHRISTOPHER NORTH To-morrow is Merry Christmas; and ...

The Little Sister's Vacation
WINIFRED M. KIRKLAND IT WAS to be a glorious Chris...

Hymn For The Nativity
EDWARD THRING Happy night and happy silence ...

A Christmas Insurrection
ANNE P.L. FIELD In the hush of a shivery Chr...

Inexhaustibility Of The Subject Of Christmas
LEIGH HUNT So many things have been said of late yea...

A Story Of The Christ-child
A German legend for Christmas Eve as told by ELIZABE...

The Glorious Song Of Old
EDMUND H. SEARS It came upon the midnight cl...





The Angels






WILLIAM DRUMMOND

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 height 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 solemnize 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 swarm,
And cope of stars re-echoed the same.

Or say, if this new Birth of ours
Sleeps, laid within some ark of flowers,
Spangled with dew-light; thou canst clear
All doubts, and manifest the where.

Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek
Him in the morning's blushing cheek,
Or search the beds of spices through,
To find him out?

_Star_.--No, this ye need not do;
But only come and see Him rest,
A princely babe, in's mother's breast.





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