CHRISTMAS IN EDINBOROUGH. I. Sheath'd is the river as it glideth by, The doom and history of each one we meet, Alexander Smith. Christmas in Edinborough. 187 CHRISTMAS IN EDINBOROUGH. II. Joy like a stream flows through the Christmas streets, But I am sitting in my silent room, To-night, while half the world the other greets With smiles and grasping hands and drinks and meats, I sit and muse on my poetic doom; ode With gorgeous music growing to a close, Alexander Smith. AROUND THE CHRISTMAS LAMP. The wind may shout as it likes without; For a merrier din shall resound within, And from far and near, o'er the landscape drear, All the frozen ground is in fetters bound; For Christmas is come in ev'ry home, To summer our hearts will turn it. There is gladness to all at its ancient call, And from far and near, o'er the landscape drear, J. L. Molloy. Christmas-Eve. 189 CHRISTMAS-EVE. Alone-with one fair star for company, I pace along the darkening wintry sea. As each one gathers to his family. But I-a waif on earth where'er I roamUprooted with life's bleeding hopes and fears, From that one heart that was my heart's sole home, Feel the old pang pierce through the severing years, And as I think upon the years to come, That fair star trembles through my falling tears. Mathilde Blind. In the beautiful Land of Books; Where the friends of childhood roam Through most delightful nooks. I'll rent the unfinished floor And the Caliph-Haroun—there And Cinderella, too, Will weep when her sisters whip her: And I'll be the Prince-or you— Who will find her crystal slipper. And O, what fun it will be With Robin the Bobbin to feast, Or to frequently call and see The Beauty and the Beast. |