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LETTERS. 143
is, to be allowed to be a silent witness to that of yourself
and of our sisters. Alas! when shall it be so? Our family
frigate either sails too much by the head, or lies becalmed,
or is rolling in a ground-swell, and since she was launched
she never has had a fair wind. Blow, winds, blow!
I send you herewith the verses which I wrote the other
day.
As regards my authorship, I intend continuing “ Sketches
of Every-day Life,” and also novels with this title. I have
several such in my head, and have begun one, which I
fancy will be interesting and useful. But these poor but-
terflies want fresh air and warmth to enable them to take
wing. I do not intend devoting myself to composition. I
hope, if it pleases God, to do something better in this world
for myself and others. It is a mere pastime for the pres-
ent.
* THE EARLY CHRISTMAS SERVICE.
Hark! the chimes in mellow cadence fall:
See, the church is decked in festive state;
Fain her children round her she would call;
Peace and joy she would pour forth on all,
And to God earth’s children consecrate.
Winter’s icy hand o’er hill and bower
Spreads his shroud of snow in northern clime;
Yet on earth we hail the sacred hour
When a bud, become Life’s glorious flower,
Thorn-encircled sprang from depths of time.
Silver stars still twinkle in the sky,
Fires of joy are kindled o’er the earth;
While the angels tune their songs on high,
Jubilant the ransomed bands reply
In the house of God with solemn mirth.
Say why far and near, through darksome night,
Gleam those countless lights, with flickering ray ?
Hark! a heaven-born strain replies with might,
O’er the mists of yore has dawn’d a light,
Let us sing, “A child is born to-day!”
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