CHRISTMAS. [1864.]

How grace this hallowed day? Shall happy bells, from yonder ancient spire, Send their glad greetings to each Christmas fire Round which the children play? .... How shall we grace the day? Ah! Let the thought that on this holy morn The Prince of Peace-the Prince of Peace was born, Employ us, while we pray! Pray for the peace which long Hath left this tortured land, and haply now Holds its white court on some far mountain's brow, There hardly safe from wrong! Let every sacred fane Call its sad votaries to the shrine of God, And, with the cloister and the tented sod, Join in one solemn strain! He, who, till time shall cease, Will watch that earth, where once, not all in vain, He died to give us peace, may not disdain A prayer whose theme is—peace. Perhaps ere yet the Spring Hath died into the Summer, over all The land, the Peace of His vast love shall fall, Like some protecting wing. Oh, ponder what it means! Oh, turn the rapturous thought in every way! Oh, give the vision and the fancy play, And shape the coming scenes! Peace in the quiet dales, Made rankly fertile by the blood of men, Peace in the woodland, and the lonely glen, Peace in the peopled vales! Peace in the crowded town, Peace in the thousand fields of waving grain, Peace in the highway and the flowery lane, Peace on the wind-swept down! Peace on the farthest seas, Peace in our sheltered bays and ample streams, Peace whereso'er our starry garland gleams; And peace in every breeze! Peace on the whirring marts, Peace where the scholar thinks—the hunter roams, Peace, God of Peace! Peace, peace, in all our homes, And peace in all our hearts!