Still softly and sweetly from out the next room
Still floating and lingering 'mid shadow and gloom—
The sound of the soft murmured "lullaby—O!"
Is heard, while the mother sings gently and low— [Illustration: Music Sheet detail:
"Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber,
Holy angels guard thy bed.">[
And Grandpa and Grandma draw nearer together,
And on Grandpa's shoulder lies Grandma's grey head, As closely he holds to his fond aged heart
The wife from whose love he holds no thought apart.
And so, while their fancies to auld lang syne cling,
They lift their old voices, and quaveringly sing Way thro' to its end the dear lullaby song,
So dear to them both for the years long agone,
And straight from their hearts doth the melody flow,
Tho' the tremulous notes are so faltering and slow.
And now the sweet music hath reached other ears;
The baby's young mother the lullaby hears,
And, beckoning her mother, they presently stand
Within the dim doorway, and hand clasping hand— They listen and smile—yet with tears in their eyes—
To the soft notes which out from the shadows arise
From the hearts that old Time with his years and his—
Could not rob of the sunshine of long, long ago The clock is still ticking the moments away;
'Tis but a short time ere the old King must lay
His sceptre, his crown, and his burdens aside,
That the new King may come with the world to abide. And still the old grandparents quietly sit,
Unmindful of moments, tho' fast they may flit
Towards the hour of midnight, till gently at last
Their daughter reminds them that "bedtime is past." "Ay, daughter," says Grandma, "'tis late without doubt,
But father and I'll see this dear old year out;
It has been a kind year, fraught with peace from above,
And it brought us a dear great-grandbaby to love. "It has borne us thro' duties, or sorry or glad,
And helped us find balm when our spirits were sad;
It found us together in health and in peace,
And leaves us together tho' its own life must cease.

"And so we will watch it fade softly from earth,
And welcome the New Year to which God gives birth
And may the dear Lord who for our sakes was born,
Send blessings anew on the New Year's glad morn." Now hark! for the bells in the old tower's steeple
Ring out with a clang to the world and its people;
And merrily sounding afar and anear,
Proclaim the glad tidings, "The New Year is here!" And from other steeples the noise is resounding,
As jubilant bells the same story are sounding;
And so 'mid the clanging, the poor old year dies,
And the new youthful year opens wondering eyes And so does the baby! So frightened is he,
His shrill cry rings out with the bells' jubilee,
And quick to his side the young mother has sped,
To bend o'er her baby's her own golden head While Grandpa and Grandma are listening to hear,
'Mid the clanging of bells, the young voice sweet and clear,
Which tenderly lays on the New Year the song
Of the dear "Old-time lullaby" cherished so long So softly it floats thro' the shadowy gloom
Which tenderly broods o'er the old fashioned room,
Where Grandma and Grandpa, while steeple bells ring,
Again lift their tremulous voices and sing—

CRADLE HYMN. By Isaac Watts, D.D.
Hush, my dear! Lie still, and slumber!
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings, without number,
Gently falling on thy head. Sleep, my babe! Thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied. How much better thou'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven He descended,
And became a child like thee! Soft and easy is thy cradle:
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When His birth-place was a stable,
And His softest bed was hay. Blessed Babe! What glorious features,—
Spotless fair, divinely bright!
Must he dwell with brutal creatures?
How could angels bear the sight? Was there nothing but a manger,
Cursed sinners could afford,
To receive the Heavenly Stranger?
Did they thus affront the Lord? Soft, my child! I did not chide thee,
Though my song might sound too hard;
'Tis thy mother sits beside thee,
And her arm shall be thy guard. Yet to read the shameful story,
How the Jews abused their King;
How they served the Lord of Glory,
Makes me angry while I sing. See the kinder shepherds round Him,
Telling wonders from the sky!
Where they sought Him, there they found Him,
With His Virgin-Mother by. See the lovely Babe a-dressing:
Lovely Infant, how He smiled!
When He wept, His Mother's blessing
Sooth'd and hush'd the Holy Child. Lo, He slumbers in a manger,
Where the horned oxen fed!
Peace, my darling, here's no danger;
There's no ox a-near thy bed. 'Twas to save thee, child, from dying,
Save my dear from burning flame,
Bitter groans and endless crying,
That thy blest Redeemer came. May'st thou live to know and fear Him,
Trust and love Him all thy days;
Then go dwell for ever near Him,
See His face, and sing His praise! I could give thee thousand kisses!
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire!