CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE. JESUS CHRIST, my Lord and Saviour, Once became a child like me; O that in my whole behaviour He my pattern still might be. All my nature is unholy; Pride and passion dwell within; But the Lord was meek and lowly, And was never known to sin. While I'm often vainly trying Some new pleasure to possess, He was always self-denying, Patient in his worst distress. Let me never be forgetful Of his precepts any more; Idle, passionate, and fretful, As I've often been before. Lord, though now thou art in glory, We have thine example still : I can read thy sacred story, And obey thy holy will. Help me by that rule to measure Every word and every thought; TAYLOR. TEACHING FROM THE STARS. STARS, that on your wondrous way Travel through the evening sky, Is there nothing you can say To such a little child as I ? Tell me, for I long to know, Who has made you sparkle so ? Yes, methinks I hear you say, “ Child of mortal race, attend; “ While we run our wondrous way, “Listen; we would be your friend; ; “ Teaching you that Name Divine, “By whose mighty word we shine. 66 “Child, as truly as we roll “Through the dark and distant sky, You have an immortal soul, “ Born to live when we shall die. “Suns and planets pass away: “Spirits never can decay. “When some thousand years, at most, “All their little time have spent, “ One by one our sparkling host “ Shall forsake the firmament. “We shall from our glory fall; “You must live beyond us all. “Yes, and God, who bade us roll, “God, who hung us in the sky, 66 “Stoops to watch an infant's soul a 66 66 • O then, while your breath is given, "Let it rise in fervent prayer; * To receive your spirit there, TAYLOR. EASTER HYMN. JESUS CHRIST is risen to-day, Hymns of praises let us sing But the pains which he endured, ENGLISH POETRY PART THE SECOND. THE LAST MINSTREL. The way was long, the wind was cold, A wandering harper, scorned and poor, SCOTT. BRANKSOME TOWER. THE feast was over in Branksome Tower, The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all ; Knight, and page, and household squire Loitered through the lofty hall, Or crowded round the ample fire : The stag-hounds, weary with the chase, Lay stretched upon the rushy floor, And urged, in dreams, the forest race, From Teviot-stone to Eskdale-moor. Nine-and-twenty knights of fame Hung their shields in Branksome Hall ; Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall |