MIDNIGHT CHRISTMAS COMMUNION.

UT on the world, unheeded, came there
One at midnight hour,

A lowly maid His mother, and a
manger-stall His bed;

Out on the cold, cold winter, when the snow lay on the ground,

He came a tender Infant to Bethlehem's

humble shed.

Out on the world, unheeded

that He was God,

none knew

Save His parents, and the shepherds, and the

Out on the world, forsaken, poor, He comes to sinners still,

When storms are raging fiercely, and 't is

And they turn their faces from Him, and will not take Him in.

Out on the world, neglected - careless Christians love Him not

While in our temples dwelling, veiled in mystery most high;

Unbelieving they reject Him-they will not own their Lord,

Out on the cold, cold winter-for they pass unmindful by.

But every lowly bosom which receives him tenderly

He strengthens with His presence, and His blessing comfort brings;

What joy to that poor dwelling when the Lord of Glory comes

Another Bethlehem's manger to enthrone the King of kings.*

Such be my heart, dear Jesus, this blessed

Christmas morn ;

Cold, cold the world unheeding, but my Guest vouchsafe to be;

Though mean and poor the dwelling, true my heart's glad welcome is,

And this my prayer unceasing

evermore with me.

Stay Thou

Out on the world, forsaken - Oh, regard Thy children's love—

Our tears be reparation for the slights upon Thee thrown;

May the Church's great salvation, Thy holy sacrifice,

Avail for all the thankless, and for all our sins atone.

Alleluia! Alleluia! Till death our voices hush, Till we join the Church triumphant, and reach the Fount of grace;

There no more the hidden presence, nor Eucharistic rite,

But the Bridegroom's marriage supper, and to see Him face to face.

1

A CAROL FOR CHRISTMAS-TIDE.

OW lift the carol, men and maids,
Now make exultant singing,

This day the Well of Life first sprang

Who shall declare its springing?

It is the birthday of our Peace;

This day for man, the weary,
The everlasting Son of God
Was born of blessed Mary.

He was not born in such sweet days
As we of yore remember;

It was not sunny summer-time,

Oh, it was bleak December:
Over our heads the sun is bright,
Beneath the snow falls slacken,
So, unto this dark wintry world

He came, the dead to quicken.

He did not bring a royal train,

A host no man could number;
Nor lay begirt by damask folds,

Nor lulled by harp to slumber;
Oh, He was wrapped in swathing bands
Whose might o'erspans the heaven,
And a poor trough, whence oxen fed,
For His first rest was given.

He lies not in the manger now
Far o'er the sapphire portal
At the right hand of Power He sits,
Who was this day made mortal :
All in the highest, holiest place,

Where there may dwell none other,
There our own Manhood sits enthroned,

There is our Elder Brother.

The birthday of our God and King -
Lo! we are called to greet Him;
The everlasting Bridegroom comes,
Oh, go ye out to meet Him.

This is the end of all below,

The crown of Love's best story;

Christ stands and knocks-oh, happy souls, Receive the King of Glory.