Standing on what too long we bore
With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,

THOUGH rude winds usher thee, sweet day,
Though clouds thy face deform,
Though Nature's grace is swept away

Before thy sleety storm;

Even in thy sombrest wintry vest,

Of blessed days thou art most blest.

Nor frigid air nor gloomy morn

Shall check our jubilee :

Bright is the day when Christ was born,
No sun need shine but He:

Let roughest storms their coldest blow,
With love of Him our hearts shall glow.

Inspired with high and holy thought,
Fancy is on the wing:

It seems as to mine ear it brought
Those voices carolling,-

Voices through Heaven and Earth that ran,—

66

Glory to God, good-will to man!"

I see the Shepherds gazing wild

At those fair Spirits of light;
I see them bending o'er the Child
With that untold delight

I think she loved me some,

- I'm bound to think that of her,

sir;

And as for me, I can't begin to tell how I loved her!

Three years ago the baby came our humble home to bless; And then I reckon I was nigh to perfect happiness;

'Twas hers, 'twas mine; but I've no language to explain

to you,

How that little girl's weak fingers our hearts together drew!

Once we watch'd it through a fever, and with each gasping breath,

Dumb with an awful, wordless woe, we waited for its death; And, though I'm not a pious man, our souls together there, For Heaven to spare our darling, went up in voiceless prayer.

And, when the doctor said 'twould live, our joy what words could tell?

Clasp'd in each other's arms, our grateful tears together fell. Sometimes, you see, the shadow fell across our little nest, But it only made the sunshine seem a doubly welcome guest.

Work came to me a plenty, and I kept the anvil ringing; Early and late you'd find me there a-hammering and singing;

Love nerved my arm to labour, and moved my tongue to song,

And, though my singing wasn't sweet, it was tremendous strong!

One day a one-arm'd stranger stopp'd to have me nail a

shoe,

And, while I was at work, we pass'd a compliment or two;
I ask'd him how he lost his arm. He said 'twas shot away
At Malvern Hill. "Malvern Hill! Did you know Robert
May?"

Standing on what too long we bore
With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,

THOUGH rude winds usher thee, sweet day,
Though clouds thy face deform,
Though Nature's grace is swept away

Before thy sleety storm;

Even in thy sombrest wintry vest,

Of blessed days thou art most blest.

Nor frigid air nor gloomy morn

Shall check our jubilee :

Bright is the day when Christ was born,
No sun need shine but He:

Let roughest storms their coldest blow,
With love of Him our hearts shall glow.

Inspired with high and holy thought,
Fancy is on the wing:

It seems as to mine ear it brought
Those voices carolling,-

Voices through Heaven and Earth that ran,— "Glory to God, good-will to man!"

I see the Shepherds gazing wild
At those fair Spirits of light;
I see them bending o'er the Child
With that untold delight

I think she loved me some, I'm bound to think that of her,

sir;

And as for me, I can't begin to tell how I loved her!

Three years ago the baby came our humble home to bless; And then I reckon I was nigh to perfect happiness;

'Twas hers, 'twas mine; but I've no language to explain

to you,

How that little girl's weak fingers our hearts together drew!

Once we watch'd it through a fever, and with each gasping breath,

Dumb with an awful, wordless woe, we waited for its death; And, though I'm not a pious man, our souls together there, For Heaven to spare our darling, went up in voiceless prayer.

And, when the doctor said 'twould live, our joy what words could tell?

Clasp'd in each other's arms, our grateful tears together fell. Sometimes, you see, the shadow fell across our little nest, But it only made the sunshine seem a doubly welcome guest.

Work came to me a plenty, and I kept the anvil ringing ; Early and late you'd find me there a-hammering and singing;

Love nerved my arm to labour, and moved my tongue to song,

And, though my singing wasn't sweet, it was tremendous strong!

One day a one-arm'd stranger stopp'd to have me nail a

shoe,

And, while I was at work, we pass'd a compliment or two;
I ask'd him how he lost his arm. He said 'twas shot away
At Malvern Hill. "Malvern Hill! Did you know Robert
May?"

"That's me," said he. "You, you!" I gasp'd, choking with horrid doubt;

"If you're the man, just follow me; we'll try this mystery out!"

With dizzy steps, I led him to Mary. God! 'Twas true! Then the bitterest pangs of misery, unspeakable, I knew.

Frozen with deadly horror, she stared with eyes of stone, And from her quivering lips there broke one wild, despairing moan.

'Twas he! the husband of her youth, now risen from the

dead,

But all too late; and, with bitter cry, her senses fled.

What could be done? He was reported dead. On his return

He strove in vain some tidings of his absent wife to learn. 'Twas well that he was innocent! Else I'd have kill'd him,

too,

So dead he never would have riz till Gabriel's trumpet blew !

It was agreed that Mary then between us should decide,
And each by her decision would sacredly abide.

No sinner, at the judgment-seat, waiting eternal doom,
Could suffer what I did, while waiting sentence in that room.

Rigid and breathless, there we stood, with nerves as tense as steel,

While Mary's eyes sought each white face, in piteous appeal. God! could not woman's duty be less hardly reconciled Between her lawful husband and the father of her child?

Ah, how my heart was chill'd to ice, when she knelt down and said,

"Forgive me, John! He is my husband! Here! Alive! not dead!

I raised her tenderly, and tried to tell her she was right,
But somehow, in my aching breast, the prison'd words stuck

tight!