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And I bend above him, weeping
BY AND BY.
[Speak this in an off-hand, descriptive way.]
There's a little mischief maker
He is sitting by our hearthstones,
You may know him by his winning,
That is straying everywhere-
For a bold, determined fellow
Is this conqueror, By and By.
When the calls of duty haunt us,
And the present seems to be
Trust him not, this By and By!
A CHRISTMAS CHANT.
[To be recited in a solemn manner.]
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 seal
Held undisturb'd their ancient reign
"Twas in the calm and silent night
His breast with thoughts of boundless sway;
What reck'd the Roman what befell
A paltry province, far away,
In the solemn midnight,
Within that province, far away,
Went plodding home a weary boor;
Fallen through a half shut stable door,
How keen the stars, his only thought;
Oh, strange indifference! low and high
One that shall thrill the world forever!
It is the calm and silent night!
A thousand bells ring out, and throw
For in that stable lay, new born,
The peaceful Prince of Earth and Heaven,
OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN.
[In a lofty and heroic style speak this.]
O, thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers, whence are thy beams, O sun? thy everlasting light? Thou comest
forth in thy awful beauty; the stars hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave, but thou thyself movest alone. Who can be a companion of thy course?
The oaks of the mountains fall; the mountains themselves decay with years; the ocean shrinks and grows again; the moon herself is lost in the heavens; but thou art forever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course.
When the world is dark with tempests, when thunders roll and lightnings fly, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more, whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds or thou tremblest at the gates of the west.
But thou art perhaps, like me, for a season; thy years will have an end. Thou wilt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning. Exult, then, O sun, in the strength of thy youth. age is dark and unlovely: it is like the glimmering light of the moon when it shines through broken clouds, and the mist is on the hills, the blast of the north is on the plains, the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey.
THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE WORLD.
WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE.
[Deliver in a bold, energetic way.]
Blessings on the hand of woman!
Oh, no matter where the place!
Infancy's the tender fountain;
From them souls unresting grow
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or darkness hurled,
Is the hand that rocks the world.
Woman, how divine your mission
Are from mother-love impearled,
Blessings on the hand of woman!
With the worship in the sky-
THE SMACK IN SCHOOL.
WM. PITT PALMER.
[Imitate the lisping and simpering manner of the youth herein.]
A district school, not far away,
'Mid Berkshire hills, one winter's day,
When suddenly, behind his back,
Rose sharp and clear a rousing smack!