THE ORPHAN'S CHRISTMAS-TREE.

Then, suddenly, there shone a light;
Along the street, approaching nearer
Another child, in garments white,

Spake as he came and clearer, dearer,
His voice made music in the night:

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I am the Christ! have thou no fear!
I was a child in my probation,
And children unto me are near:

I hear and heed thy supplication,
Though all the rest forget thee here.

"My saving Word to all I bear, And equally to each 'tis given;

I bring the promise of my care

Here, in the street, beneath the heaven,

As well as in the chambers there.

"And here, poor boy, thy Christmas-tree
Will I adorn, and so make glimmer
Through all this open space, for thee,
That those within shall twinkle dimmer,
For bright as thine they cannot be!"

The Christ-child with his shining hand
Then pointed up, and lo! the lustres
That sparkled there! He saw it stand,
A tree, o'erhung with starry clusters
On all its branches, wide and grand.

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BESIDE THE SEA.

I.

THEY walked beside the Summer sea,
And watched the slowly dying sun;
And "O," she said, "come back to me!
My love, my own, my only one!"
But while he kissed her fears away
The gentle waters kissed the shore,

And, sadly whispering, seemed to say

"He'll come no more! he'll come no more!"

II.

Alone beside the Autumn sea

She watched the sombre death of day;

And "O," she said, "remember me!

And love me, darling, far away!
A cold wind swept the watery gloom,
And, darkly whispering on the shore,

Sighed out the secret of his doom, —

In

"He'll come no more! he'll come no more!"

III.

peace beside the Winter sea

A white grave glimmers in the moon;
And waves are fresh, and clouds are free,

And shrill winds pipe a careless tune.
One sleeps beneath the dark blue wave,
And one upon the lonely shore ;
But joined in love, beyond the grave,

They part no more! they part no more!

WILLIAM WINTER.

WHEN sparrows build, and the leaves break forth,

My old sorrow wakes and cries,

WHEN SPARROWS BUILD, AND THE LEAVES BREAK FORTH.

For I know there is dawn in the far, far north,

And a scarlet sun doth rise;

Like a scarlet fleece the snow-field spreads,

And the icy founts run free;

And the bergs begin to bow their heads,
And plunge and sail in the sea.

O, my lost love, and my own, own love,
And my love that loved me so!

Is there never a chink in the world above

Where they listen for words from below?
Nay, I spoke once, and I grieved thee sore;
I remember all that I said;

And now thou wilt hear me no more no more
Till the sea gives up her dead.

Thou didst set thy foot on the ship, and sail
To the ice-fields and the snow;

Thou wert sad, for thy love did not avail,
And the end I could not know.

How could I tell I should love thee to-day,
Whom that day I held not dear?

How could I know I should love thee away
When I did not love thee anear.

We shall walk no more through the sodden plain
With the faded bents o'erspread;

We shall stand no more by the seething main
While the dark wrack drives o'erhead;

We shall part no more in the wind and rain,
Where thy last farewell was said;

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