HUMAN GRANDEUR. ALL human happiness is dust, He ne'er can find content; His wants increase with every hour, Unhappy mortals! why concern Know, that true happiness to find Was never, never given: Seek it not here-you seek in vain, This is a land of grief and pain: W. S. P. THE ANGELIC ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST. WHAT Soft aerial sounds are these What light is this that falls around, In faint and visionary gleams? Pale as the flitting vapours found, O'er pathless glade and midnight streams. But, hark! a burst of transport loud Lo! on a bright descending cloud, An angel-embassy appears. Ye glorious forms from regions far, And brought you to this shadowy sphere? Your am'ranth wreaths of starry bloom, Your quiv'ring wings of beamy light Will droop and fold their tarnish'd plumes; Your floating robes of snowy white Will darken in terrestial glooms. Again the notes symphonious flow, And, lo! the blest announcement's given, "Glory to God" sublimely swells, And rolls in choral thunders round; "Go humble swains," an Angel said, (The prostrate shepherds trembling rise) "To lowly Beth'lem's meanest shed, A meteor-guide directs their way- Jesus, though I can never meet With these, thine advent to behold, The myrrh, the frankincense, and gold, With kindred love and equal joy, Oxford Street. C. J. W. |