Yet not complete that wreath of joy and pain, Which for the dead must sweet indulgence gain; The pendant cross, on which with guileless art, Some hand had graved what touches every heart, The image of the Lamb for sinners slain, From Bethlehem's crib, now shrine, his prayers obtain; And tears and kisses tell the holy tale Of pilgrim love and penitential wail. The love, the tears, which fed his pious flame, May well be thine, my heart, in very same; Since bead and cross, by Palmer prized so well, At vesper-hour, these fingers softly tell, And press, through them, each dear and sacred spot Where God once walked, "yet men received Him not." And still, with pious Palmer gray, of yore, Thy lips can kiss the ground He wet with gore, Still at the Sepulchre with her delay, Who found Him risen ere the break of day; And hover round the crib with meek delight Where shepherds hasted from their flocks by night, To there adore Him whom a Virgin blessed, Bore in her arms and nourished at her breast. My Rosary dear! my Bethlehem Cross so fair! No rose, no lily can with thee compare; No gems, no gold, no art, or quaint device Could be my precious Rosary's priceless price; For Heaven's eternal joys at holier speed, I trust to win through every sacred bead; And still for suffering souls obtain release From cleansing fires to everlasting peace. A LYKE WAKE DIRGE. [From Sir Walter Scott's "Minstrelsy of the Border," we take this fragment. The dirge to which the eminent author alludes in a before- quoted extract from his work, and which he erroneously styles "a charm," is here given in full. The reader will observe that it partakes not the least of the nature of a charm. It would seem to have some analogy with the "Keen," or Wail of the Irish peasantry.] This ae nighte, this ae nighte, Every nighte and alle; Fire and sleet, and candle lighte, And Christe receive thye saule. When thou from hence away are paste, Every nighte and alle; To Whinny-muir thou comest at laste; And Christe receive thye saule. If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon; Every nighte and alle; Sit thee down and put them on; And Christe receive thye saule. If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gavest nane, Every nighte and alle, The whinnes shall pricke thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thye saule. From Whinny-muir, when thou mayest passe, Every nighte and alle; To Brig o' Dread thou comest at laste; And Christe receive thye saule. From Brig o' Dread when thou mayest passe, Every nighte and alle; To Purgatory fire thou comest at laste; And Christe receive thye saule. If ever thou gavest meat or drink, Every nighte and alle, The fire shall never make thee shrinke; And Christe receive thye saule. If meat or drink thou never gavest nane, Every nighte and alle; The fire will burn thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thye saule.