So, when the sun in bed,
    Curtained with cloudy red,
  Pillows his chin upon an orient wave,
    The flocking shadows pale
    Troop to the infernal jail—­
  Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave;
  And the yellow-skirted fays
  Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved maze.

    But see the virgin blest
    Hath laid her babe to rest—­
  Time is our tedious song should here have ending;
    Heaven’s youngest teemed star
    Hath fixed her polished car,
  Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending;
  And all about the courtly stable
  Bright-harnessed angels sit in order serviceable.

MILTON.

* * * * *

A CHRISTMAS HYMN.

  It was the calm and silent night! 
    Seven hundred years and fifty-three
  Had Rome been growing up to might,
    And now was queen of land and sea. 
  No sound was heard of clashing wars;
    Peace brooded o’er the hushed domain: 
  Apollo, Pallas, Jove, and Mars
    Held undisturbed their ancient reign,
        In the solemn midnight,
          Centuries ago.

  ’Twas in the calm and silent night! 
    The senator of haughty Rome,
  Impatient, urged his chariot’s flight,
    From lordly revel rolling home;
  Triumphal arches, gleaming, swell
    His breast with thoughts of boundless sway;
  What recked the Roman what befell
    A paltry province far away,
        In the solemn midnight,
          Centuries ago?

  Within that province far away
    Went plodding home a weary boor;
  A streak of light before him lay,
    Fallen through a half-shut stable-door
  Across his path.  He passed—­for naught
    Told what was going on within;
  How keen the stars, his only thought;
    The air how calm and cold and thin,
        In the solemn midnight,
          Centuries ago!

  Oh, strange indifference! low and high
    Drowsed over common joys and cares;
  The earth was still—­but knew not why;
    The world was listening, unawares. 
  How calm a moment may precede
    One that shall thrill the world forever! 
  To that still moment none would heed,
    Man’s doom was linked no more to sever—­
        In the solemn midnight,
          Centuries ago!

  It is the calm and solemn night! 
    A thousand bells ring out, and throw
  Their joyous peals abroad, and smite
    The darkness—­charmed and holy now! 
  The night that erst no name had worn,
    To it a happy name is given;
  For in that stable lay new-born,
    The peaceful Prince of Earth and Heaven,
        In the solemn midnight,
          Centuries ago!

ALFRED DOMETT.

* * * * *

TRYSTE NOEL.