[EXTRACT.]

THEN, too, the Old Year dieth, And the forests utter a moan, Like the voice of one who crieth

In the wilderness alone,

"Vex not his ghost!"

Then comes, with an awful roar, Gathering and sounding on, The storm-wind from Labrador, The wind Euroclydon,

The storm-wind..

Howl! howl! and from the forest

Sweep the red leaves away! Would the sins that thou abhorrest, O Soul! could thus decay,

And be swept away!

For there shall come a mightier blast,
There shall be a darker day;
And the stars, from heaven down-cast,
Like red leaves be swept away!
Kyrie, eleyson!

Christe, eleyson!

H. W. LONGfellow.

Voices of the Night. (Poetical Works.)

IN midst of dangers, fears, and death,
Thy goodness I'll adore;
And praise thee for thy mercies past,
And humbly hope for more.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

"THE OLD YEAR OUT, THE NEW
YEAR IN."

RING then, ring loudly, merry midnight bells!
Peal the new lord of day's blithe welcoming
What though your sweet-scaled tones be also knells,

Be knells the while for the old fallen king Resting his dying head upon the snow? Ring out the old year, for the new year ring.

AUGUSTA WEBSTER.

But 66 No," she murmurs low and sad,
And will not lift her face,

66 Last year a merry welcome had

When he came to our poor place,
We made a little feast for him,
And the lamp shone bright, now always dim.

"But when the year was changed and old,
He dealt me such a blow,
That all my heart is faint and cold,
Far colder than thy snow,-

He took mine only one away,
And dashed the life-light from my day.

"No coming year shall welcome bet
To this bare house of mine,

I have no song to sing to thee,
No wreath of hope to twine;
I prayed to die, ere I should hear
The footsteps of another year."

Unwelcome thus, the gift of God
Came in by that sad door,
Yet, as his feet her threshold trod

The faint heart beat once more;
For not alone, ah, not alone
The pale New Year before her shone!
She saw One enter, treading low

And softly, at his side, She saw, by gleaming robes of snow, The vesture strangely dyed,The sandalled foot that shows a scar, The tender hands where nail-prints are.

Then, looking upwards from her place,
And trembling in the night,
She caught the shining of His face

Who makes our darkness light,
And with a cry of wonder sweet
She knelt to kiss the Master's feet.
"I knew how changed and desolate

This lonely house must be,
How faint the heart that should await

The gift I sent to thee,

The vacant chair, the vanished light,
Are present to My heart to-night.

"And I am come, from cloudless skies
That hear no sound of woe,
To this poor earth that moaning lies
Beneath her veil of snow,-

I come to bid thee rise, and make
This New Year welcome for My sake.

"Look up, sad heart, and face the dawn,

Look up, and lean on Me,

These hours shall speed thy spirit on

To where thy treasures be;

But every hour thy hands must move
In ministries of watchful love."

His voice is like the summer wind

That blows upon the grass, The winter-time is left behind,

The haunting shadows pass,And Hope awakens, singing clear, To bless the morning of the Year. AUTHOR OF 66 EZEKIEL AND OTHER POEMS." (Nelson.)

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TO THE NEW YEAR.

NEW Year, here's a welcome to thee-
A welcome that springs from the heart!

Thy light reveals glories to me,

And thou dost fresh courage impart. Hope shines like the star of the East On the birth of this infant of Time; Its lustre my faith has increased,

And made resolutions sublime. Like a plain of immaculate snow

Untrodden-to mortals unknown, And fair as the infant year's brow, The Future is beauty alone.

Let us gaze on the sinless awhile, Nor waste idle tears on the dead; For, trusting to Heaven's own smile, We fear not the unknown to tread.

From the Past, like a desolate shore

With wrecks of resolve overstrewn, Turn away; for the Future once more

To the heart sings a life-stirring tune. It sings not of death, but of birth: Weep not on the grave of decayBehold the new joy of the earth, A Phoenix arises to-day!

ROWLAND BROWN.

Songs and Poems. (D. Bogue.)

FRIEND, come thou like a friend,
And whether bright thy face,

Or dim with clouds we cannot comprehend—
We'll hold out patient hands, each in his place,
And trust thee to the end,

Knowing thou leadest onward to those spheres Where there are neither days nor months nor years.

AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX,
GENTLEMAN."

Thirty Years. (Macmillan and Co.)

NEW Year met me somewhat sad :
Old Year leaves me tired,
Stripped of favourite things I had,
Baulked of much desired :
Yet further on my road to-day
God willing, further on my way.

New Year coming on apace,

What have you to give me?
Bring you scathe, or bring you grace,
Face me with an honest face;

You shall not deceive me :
Be it good or ill, be it what you will,
It needs shall help me on my road,
My rugged way to heaven, please God.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI.
Poems. (Macmillan and Co.)

THY path is plain and straight-that light is given

Onward in faith-and leave the rest to heaven.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

SWIFTLY the days and the years go by,
But they never die, they never die,
Immortal as we, they pass before,

And shall meet us again on Time's further shore.

God grant they come, a gentle band,
With welcoming eyes and greeting hand :
"The spirits of bygone years are we,
And we lead thee home to eternity."

FREDERICK LANGBRIDGE.

CLANGING hoarsely, tolling softly, changeful on the changeful wind,

Wail the bells in solemn dirges, "Dying! dying! left behind!"

Chiming sweetly, pealing gladly, when the midnight turneth o'er,

Chant the joy-bells, "Living! living! press ye on to things before !"

MRS. HENRY FAUSSETT. (Alessie Bond.) The Cairns of Iona. (George Herbert, Dublin.)

THE OLD YEAR'S REMONSTRANCE.
THE Old Year lay on his death-bed lone,
And ere he died he spoke to me,
Low and solemn in undertone,

Mournfully, reproachfully.

The fading eyes in his snow-white head Shone bright the while their lids beneath. These were the words the Old Year said

I shall never forget them while I breathe :"Did you not promise when I was born"— Sadly he spoke, and not in ire"To treat me kindly-not to scorn

And to pay the debts you owed my sire? Did you not vow, with an honest heart, Your unconsider'd hours to hive? And to throw no day in waste away, Of my three hundred and sixty-five?

:

"Did you not swear to your secret self,
Before my beard was a minute old,
That whatever you'd done to my fathers gone,
You'd prize my minutes more than gold?
Did you not own, with a keen regret,

That the past was a time of waste and sin? But that with me, untainted yet,

Wisdom and duty should begin?

"Did you not oft the vow renew,

That never with me should folly dwell? That, however Fate might deal with you, You'd prize me much, and use me well? That never a deed of scorn or wrath,

Or thought unjust of your fellow-men, Should, while I lived, obscure your path, Or enter in your heart again?

"Did you not fail ?-but my tongue is weak,
Your sad short-comings to recall !”
And the Old Year sobb'd-'twas vain to speak-
And turn'd his thin face to the wall.
"Old Year! Old Year! I've done you wrong-
Hear my repentance ere you die !
Linger awhile!" Ding-dong, ding-dong-
The joy-bells drown'd his parting sigh.
"Old Year! Old Year!" he could not hear,
He yielded placidly his breath.

I loved him little while he was here,
I prized him dearly after death.
New Year! now smiling at my side,
Most bitterly the past I rue.
I've learned a lesson since he died,
I'll lead a better life with you.

CHARLES MACKAY.

Poetical Works. (F. Warne and Co.)

JANUARY 1, 1828.

FLEETLY hath pass'd the year. The seasons came
Duly as they are wont,-the gentle Spring,
And the delicious Summer, and the cool,
Rich Autumn, with the nodding of the grain,
And Winter, like an old and hoary man,
Frosty and stiff-and so are chronicled.
We have read gladness in the new green leaf
And in the first-blown violets; we have drunk
Cool water from the rock, and in the shade,

Sunk to the noontide slumber :-we have pluck'd
The mellow fruitage of the bending tree,
And girded to our pleasant wanderings

When the cool wind came freshly from the hills;
And when the tinting of the Autumn leaves
Had faded from its glory, we have sat
By the good fires of Winter, and rejoiced
Over the fulness of the gather'd sheaf.

"God hath been very good!" 'Tis He whose hand
Moulded the sunny hills, and hollow'd out
The shelter of the valleys, and doth keep
The fountains in their secret places cool;
And it is He who leadeth up the sun,
And ordereth the starry influences,
And tempereth the keenness of the frost-
And therefore, in the plenty of the feast,
And in the lifting of the cup, let HIM
Have praises for the well-completed year.
N. P. WILLIS.
Poetical Works. (G. Routledge and Sons.)

A NEW YEAR.

" 'Behold, make all things new.”—Rev. xxi. 5.
BROTHER, new heart be thine

This year new-born-new height, new depth, new

scope;

New faith to hold the leading Hand Divine,

Press on, nor pause, nor grope;

New love, new hope;

New pity for the weakness of thy brothers;
New disregard of self, new thought for others.
New strength to wield the two-edged sword of God
'Gainst greed and cruelty and smooth deceit ;
New strength to follow where the Master trod,

Though thorns may tear thy feet;

Yea, and to bless thy soul, and keep thee strong, Heard in thy dreams, faint strains of that New Song!

FREDERICK LANGBRIDGE.

A NEW WORLD.

"I saw a new heaven and a new earth."-Rev. xxi. 1.

If we this new-born year
Could live to Him-
Love simple and sincere,

Faith never dim

It is a season for the quiet thought,

And the still reckoning with thyself. The year
Gives back the spirits of its dead, and time
Whispers the history of its vanish'd hours;
And the heart, calling its affections up,
Counteth its wasted ingots. Life stands still
And settles like a fountain, and the eye
Sees clearly through its depths, and noteth all
That stirr'd its troubled waters. It is well
That Winter with the dying year should come!
N. P. WILLIS.
Poetical Works. (Routledge.)

THE strong in spiritual action need not look
Upon the new-found year as on a scroll,
The which their hands lack cunning to unroll,
But in it read, as in an open book,
All they are seeking-high resolve unshook
By circumstance's unforeseen control,
Successful striving, and whate'er the soul
Has recognized for duty, not forsook.

But they whom many failures have made tame,
Question the future with that reverent fear,
Which best their need of heavenly aid may show,
Will it have purer thought and loftier aim
Pursued more loftily? That a man might know.

R. C. TRENCH.

Poems. (Macmillan and Co.)

A NEW-COIN'D year, fresh from the mint of GodSpend it, O heart, in service of thy King.

F. L.

TAKE into this new year the new-born Child, And He shall make thy heart and all things new. F. L.

BEGONE, old pride, old greed, old love of self; Welcome, new faith, new hope, new charity.

F. L.

Lo, a new year: forget the things behind,
And reach thou forth to those that are before.
F. L.

ANOTHER year begins for thee to-day;
Pray that it bring thee twelve months nearer home.
F. L.

TURN thou to Him this day, and He shall turn, And give thee back thy locust-eaten years.

NEW-YEAR BELLS.

I.

LONG years ago when Love was lord of me,
And all good gifts were in th' impending year,
At this same hour I heard them far and near,
These new-year bells, flood heaven with melody,
I home-bound through the snow, as over sea
Voices of dear friends hail the mariner
Returning, prosperous; till in their rear
Saint Paul's great voice made lesser voices flee.
And now again I hear them, far-off bells,
Across the rushing river in the wind,
Fainting or rising as the tempest swells,

The river rushing like dark years behind, Chasing dark years gone by, and these sweet spells High overhead like memories intertwined.

II.

RING out again, ye bells of Battersea,

Over the seaward Thames while I sit here Lamplit, with moistened eyes and hungering

ear,

Hopeful of what I know not, save to be,
To know, love, be loved, more, for now to me
These wild harmonics in the waves of air,
Changing yet still repeating, here and there,
Yet truly ordered, ring life's history,-
Life's history-life's prophecy withal :—

Shouted the sons of God when the first ray Showed them an infant world, and each new day

Still shout they, each new year renews the call
To higher faiths, continuous and alway,
Rhythmical, storm-borne, through eternity.

W. BELL SCOTT. (From THE ATHENÆUM, by permission.)

F. L.

HELP US, O God of mercy and of might, To consecrate to Thee this new-born year.

F. L.

HE was dead. He had gone to the rest of his

race,

With a sad smile frozen upon his face.
Deadness clouded his eyes. And his death-bell

rung,

And my sorrowing thoughts his low requiem sung;

F