THE NATIVITY. BY THE REV. THOMAS DALE, M. A. A light is kindling o'er the midnight sky, Of broad unwonted brightness;—the hushed air And hark! fresh sounds; and lo! the scattered beams Condense into a wreath of living light; Pure as the chaste, cold moonbeams, yet more bright Than the full noontide blaze, behold it streams Above, around an earthly dwelling-place Heaven sheds its purest rays on some of mortal race! Why shine ye thus, ye Heavens? and wherefore, Earth! Is it the hoped Deliverer, whose dread sword Is it the Sceptre, now at length restored To Judah's royal line? The Sacred Star That shall outshine the day's proud orb, and bless 'Tis all! 't is more! Upon a lowly bed Within a lowliest dwelling, there is One Not earthly, though on earth; and though the Son Of God, yet born of woman! Round his head Those rays are circling, till they seem to shine With such resplendent blaze as gilds the Throne divine! Well may they shine! It is the promised Son EMMANUEL, GOD WITH US; revealed on earth The living image of the viewless One! Well may they shine! By His auspicious birth Peace comes to dwell on Earth-joy reigns in HeavenHell trembles Sin is chained-Death vanquished-Man forgiven ! DALE ABBEY. BY JAMES MONTGOMERY, ESQ. A solitary Arch, standing in the midst of an open meadow, and a small Oratory, more ancient than the dilapidated monastery itself, and now the chapel for the hamlet, are alone conspicuous, of all the magnificent structures which once occupied this ground. The site is about five miles south-east of Derby. I. THE glory hath departed from thee, Dale! -A Power, that once the power of Kings defied, In mock humility, usurped this vale, And lorded o'er the region far and wide: Darkness to light, evil to good, allied, Had wrought a charm which made all hearts to quail. Age after age?-The word of God was bound. Whose stones cry out, "Thus Babylon herself shall fall." II. More beautiful in ruin than in prime, Beneath yon cliff, an humble roof behold! Poor as our Saviour's birth-place; yet the fold, Where the Good Shepherd, in this quiet vale, Gathers his flock, and feeds them, as of old, With bread from heaven :—I change my note; All hail! The glory of the Lord is risen upon thee, Dale! Sheffield, 1830. YET, "HOPE." 6 BY THE AUTHOR OF THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.' It was a sorrowful group which gathered around Henry M- on the twentieth anniversary of his marriage, in the garden house of the little vicarage at Wilmington. It was evening-the stillness of the gentle skies, the softness of the summer breeze, the stars in their distant loveliness, the moon in her mild and tranquil radiance, all spoke the language of harmony and peace. Alas! for those whom nature has no power to soothe. That anguish must indeed be acute, which makes us loathe the face of creation beaming in beauty and brightness, and hide ourselves from its smile. Those must be moments of unimaginable bitterness, when the loveliness of nature without, cannot charm away the recollection of misery within. |