Long, long ago, with vows too much forgotten, The Cross of Christ was seal'd on every brow, Ah! slow of heart, that shun the Christian conflict; Rise up at last! The accepted time is now. Soldiers of Jesus! Blest who endure; Stand in the battle; the victory is sure. Hark! hark! the Saviour's voice to each is calling-- "I bore the Cross of Death in pain for thee; On thee the Cross of daily life is falling: Children! take up the Cross and follow Me." Soldiers of Jesus! &c. Strive as God's saints have striven in all ages; Press those slow steps where firmer feet have trod: For us their lives adorn the sacred pages, For them a crown of glory is with God. Soldiers of Jesus! &c. Peace! peace! sweet voices bring an ancient story, (Such songs angelic melodies employ,) "Hard is the strife, but unconceived the glory: Short is the pain, eternal is the joy." Soldiers of Jesus! &c. On! Christian souls, all base temptations spurning, Drown coward thoughts in Faith's triumphant hymn; Since Jesus suffer'd, our salvation earning, Shall we not toil that we may rest with Him? Soldiers of Jesus! &c. Amen. WHITSUNTIDE. Come down! come down! O Holy Ghost! As once of old Thou didst come down In fiery tongues at Pentecost, The Apostolic heads to crown. Come down! though now no flame divine, Nor heaven-sent Dove, our sight amaze; Our Church still shows the outward sign, Thou truly givest inward grace. Come down! come down! on infancy, The babes whom Jesus deign'd to love; God give us grace by faith to see, Above the Font, the mystic Dove. Come down! come down! on kneeling bands Of those who fain would strength receive; And in the laying on of hands Bless us beyond what we believe. Come down! not only on the saint, Oh! struggle with the hard of heart, With wilful sin and inborn taint, Till lust, and wrath, and pride depart. Come down! come down! sweet Comforter! It was the promise of the Lord. Come down! although we grieve Thee sore, Not for our merits--but His Word. Come down! come down! not what we would, But what we need, O bring with Thee. Turn life's sore riddle to our good; A little while and we shall see. Amen. CHRISTMAS WISHES. A CAROL.