Ye glorious forms from regions far,

What happy mission brings you here?
Who guided your etherial car,

And brought you to this shadowy sphere?

Your am'ranth wreaths of starry bloom,

All radiant with ambrosial dews,
Will soon have shed their rich perfume-

Will soon their tinted beauties lose.

Your quiv'ring wings of beamy light

Will droop and fold their tarnish'd plumes;
Your floating robes of snowy white

Will darken in terrestial glooms.

Again the notes symphonious flow,

And, lo! the blest announcement's given,
Embodying all that earth would know,

In all the melody of Heav'n!

Glory to God” sublimely swells,

And rolls in choral thunders round;
" Good will to man" in sweetness dwells,

On ev'ry tongue with ling’ring sound.,

« Go humble swains,” an Angel said,

(The prostrate shepherds trembling rise) " To lowly Beth'lem's meanest shed,

For there your infant monarch lies.”

A meteor-guide directs their way

They go with mingid hope and fear,
And joined by Eastern sages, pay

Their glad and costly homage there.

Jesus, though I can never meet

With these, thine advent to behold,
Or scatter at thy sacred feet

The myrrh, the frankincense, and gold,

With kindred love and equnl joy,

I humble bail thy natal day ;
Pass not my gift unheeded by~

My tribute of this feeble lay.
Oxford Street,

C. J. W.

CALCUTTA PEONS OR HURKARUS, AND SAEES OR GROOMS.