HUMAN GRANDEUR. ALL human happiness is dust, His wants increase with every hour, Unhappy mortals! why concern This is a land of grief and pain: W. S. P. THE ANGELIC ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST. WHAT soft aerial sounds are these That float along the midnight air? What light is this that falls around, But, hark! a burst of transport loud Ye glorious forms from regions far, And brought you to this shadowy sphere? Your am'ranth wreaths of starry bloom, Your quiv'ring wings of beamy light Will droop and fold their tarnish'd plumes; Your floating robes of snowy white Again the notes symphonious flow, A meteor-guide directs their way- Jesus, though I can never meet With these, thine advent to behold, The myrrh, the frankincense, and gold, With kindred love and equal joy, I humble hail thy natal day; Oxford Street. C. J. W. |