“Oh friends, beloved friends! weep not, Nor be oppressed with woe; ’Tis of His will, who doeth right, That I am called to go! “Fain would I tarry, but the cry Hath sounded in mine ear, ‘Haste to depart, the Lord hath need Of thee no longer here!’ “Even like the Master whom I serve, I pray ye not to grieve; But as ye have believed in me, Also in Him believe! “I go, but leave you not forlorn, As sheep without a guide;-- For Christ the unfailing Comforter Shall still with you abide! “Oh weep not, friends; a better home Awaits me, and I go, But to that home which is prepared For ye who love me so! Farewell, farewell! Unto my God, And unto yours, I go!” The Sabbath sun went down amid A golden, cloudless sky; And the freed spirit, cleansed from sin, Arose to God on high. Beneath the trees where he had died, They buried him, and there Enwove the flowery boughs to form A quiet house of prayer. Long time with them dwelt Marien, Until she was sent forth, At the Lord’s bidding to perform New service on the earth. Good speed to thee, thou blessed child, May angels guide thy bark, ’Mid slumbrous calm, ’mid tempests wild, And o’er the waters dark! Good speed to thee, thou blessed child-- The angel of the poor-- And win from sorrow and from sin The world from shore to shore! OLD CHRISTMAS. Now he who knows old Christmas, He knows a carle of worth; For he is as good a fellow, As any upon the earth. He comes warm cloaked and coated, And buttoned up to the chin, And soon as he comes a-nigh the door, We open and let him in. We know that he will not fail us, So we sweep the hearth up clean; We set him the old armed chair, And a cushion whereon to lean. And with sprigs of holly and ivy We make the house look gay, Just out of an old regard to him,-- For it was his ancient way. We broach the strong ale barrel, And bring out wine and meat; And thus have all things ready, Our dear old friend to greet. And soon as the time wears round, The good old carle we see, Coming a-near;--for a creditor Less punctual is than he! He comes with a cordial voice That does one good to hear; He shakes one heartily by the hand, As he hath done many a year. And after the little children He asks in a cheerful tone, Jack, Kate, and little Annie,-- He remembers them every one! What a fine old fellow he is, With his faculties all as clear, And his heart as warm and light As a man’s in his fortieth year! What a fine old fellow, in troth! Not one of your griping elves, Who, with plenty of money to spare, Think only about themselves!