SLUMBER ON, BABY DEAR.

LUMBER on, Baby dear;

Do not hear thy mother's sigh

Breathed for him far away,

Whilst she sings thy lullaby!

Slumber on o'er thy sleep

Loving eyes will watch with care; In thy dreams may thou see

God's own angels hovering here.

Slumber on may sweet sleep
Softly on thine eyelids lię,
While I watch, chanting low,
Thy sweet, soothing lullaby.

Slumber on, happy child;

May life's storms pass gently by,
When this voice, hushed and still,
No more sings thy lullaby!

In this heart, torn with grief,
Lies a doting love for thee:
ather, come, bless our child,
Sweetly slumbering on my knee.

From the Italian by H. C. Watson.

A WOOD-NOTE.

OME ye, come ye, to the green,

green wood;

Loudly the blackbird is singing;

The squirrel is feasting on blossom and bud, And the curling fern is springing :

Here ye may sleep,

In the moss so deep,

While the noon is so warm and so weary, And sweetly awake,

As the sun through the brake

Bids the robin and white-throat sing cheery..

The quicken is tufted with blossoms of snow,
And is throwing its perfume around it;
The wryneck replies to the cuckoo's halloo,
For joy that again she has found it;
The jay's red breast

Peeps over the nest,

In the midst of the crab-blossoms blushing: And the call of the pheasant

Is frequent and pleasant

When all other calls are hushing.

Howitt.

EASTER CAROL.

ET the merry church bells ring;
Hence with tears and sighing;
Frost and cold have fled from
spring;

Life hath conquered dying.

Flowers are smiling, fields are gay,

Sunny is the weather;

With our risen Lord to-day,

All things rise together.

Let the birds sing out again
From their leafy chapel,
Praising Him with whom in vain
Sin hath sought to grapple.
Sounds of joy come loud and clear,

As the breezes flutter:

"He arose, and is not here!"

Is the strain they utter.

Mourning hearts must needs be gay,
Out of sorrow's prison,

Since the very grave can say,

"Christ he hath arisen!"

-

Anon.

BABY.

PART I.

H, when did Baby come?
When half the world was dumb

Babe was dressed in white,

In the black, dead night,

Oh, Baby came from where?
That place is very fair;
The middle of the skies,
The heart of Paradise.

Oh, who sent Baby here?
It was an angel, dear,
A spirit of purple flame;
LOVE is that angel's name.

Oh, who was Baby's shield,
Down from the heavenly field,
Along the pathway dim?

One of the cherubim ;

His sword he took with him.