Music on Christmas Morning.

Music I love--but never strain Could kindle raptures so divine, So grief assuage, so conquer pain, And rouse this pensive heart of mine-- As that we hear on Christmas morn, Upon the wintry breezes borne.

Though Darkness still her empire keep, And hours must pass, ere morning break; From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep, That music KINDLY bids us wake: It calls us, with an angel’s voice, To wake, and worship, and rejoice;

To greet with joy the glorious morn, Which angels welcomed long ago, When our redeeming Lord was born, To bring the light of Heaven below; The Powers of Darkness to dispel, And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.

While listening to that sacred strain, My raptured spirit soars on high; I seem to hear those songs again Resounding through the open sky, That kindled such divine delight, In those who watched their flocks by night.

With them I celebrate His birth-- Glory to God, in highest Heaven, Good-will to men, and peace on earth, To us a Saviour-king is given; Our God is come to claim His own, And Satan’s power is overthrown!

A sinless God, for sinful men, Descends to suffer and to bleed; Hell MUST renounce its empire then; The price is paid, the world is freed, And Satan’s self must now confess That Christ has earned a RIGHT to bless:

Now holy Peace may smile from heaven, And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring: The captive’s galling bonds are riven, For our Redeemer is our king; And He that gave his blood for men Will lead us home to God again.

STANZAS.

Oh, weep not, love! each tear that springs In those dear eyes of thine, To me a keener suffering brings Than if they flowed from mine.

And do not droop! however drear The fate awaiting thee; For MY sake combat pain and care, And cherish life for me!

I do not fear thy love will fail; Thy faith is true, I know; But, oh, my love! thy strength is frail For such a life of woe.

Were ‘t not for this, I well could trace (Though banished long from thee) Life’s rugged path, and boldly face The storms that threaten me.

Fear not for me--I’ve steeled my mind Sorrow and strife to greet; Joy with my love I leave behind, Care with my friends I meet.

A mother’s sad reproachful eye, A father’s scowling brow-- But he may frown and she may sigh: I will not break my vow!

I love my mother, I revere My sire, but fear not me-- Believe that Death alone can tear This faithful heart from thee.