TIDINGS.
Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord.
He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.—Psalm cxii. 1, 7.
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.—Luke, ii. 8, 10.
The tidings which that infant brings,
Are not for conquerors, or for kings:
Not for the sceptre or the brand,
For crowned head, or red right hand.
But to the contrite and the meek,
The sinful, sorrowful, and weak:
Or those who, with a hope sublime,
Are waiting for the Lord’s good time.
Only for those the angels sing,
“All glory to our new-born King,
And peace and good-will unto men,
Hosanna to our God! Amen!”
Miss Landon.
Sent from the ark, the dove, with timid flight,
Strove through the storms, yet found not where to light;
Pursued by winds o’er restless ocean’s roar,
Back to the flood-tossed crew no leaf she bore:
So through the past man’s tempest-driven mind,
Sent fancy forth some resting-place to find;
O’er bush, tree, hill, she winged her trackless way,
Nor foothold found her weary flight to stay;
Back o’er the sea on terror-haunted air,
She flew, to tell the tidings of despair;
Again she flies for fairer forms to seek,
And lo! the olive borne upon her beak!
Hear her glad news,—she rested on the tomb,
Saw the dawn break, and flit the ancient gloom!
Through night she swept, and heard the gentle fall
Of angel footsteps in its silent hall;
Upborne from earth, in strong and joyous flight,
Fearless she sought the empyrean height,
Gazed on the source whence pours the living ray,
On earth’s time-shadows, God’s eternal day.
John Brooks Fellon.