With tyrant pow'r thy pleasures to restrain, Or to inflict unnecessary pain.

Let not such thoughts a moment fill thy mind;
Such seeming cruelty was truly kind.

Believe that ev'ry pang and ev'ry smart
By thee sustain'd, were daggers to his heart;
And meant thy mind to duty's path to bend,
And guide thee to an honourable end.
And when his soul shall take her winged way,
And death receive at length his destin'd prey;
Regard the senseless form before thy sight,
A beacon spread to guide thy path aright;
To steer thy bark when life's dark tempest tow'rs,
And land thee safe upon eternal shores.
View o'er his virtues, (if possess'd of ought,)
And by their model form thy future thought:
Scan o'er his num'rous faults, and learn to shun
The shoals and rocks his vessel split upon.

Perhaps the spirit of thy buried sire,
Object of thy regret and fond desire,
May in the realms above permitted be,

To cast his longing, anxious glance on thee.

If so, while gazing on that still lov'd face,

His looks appear thy ev'ry step to trace, Let thy imagination dimly see

His living visage still intent on thee.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL,

FOR TWO BROTHERS.

Brother, awake! our voices raise,
Our Great Redeemer's name to praise;
This the day He came on earth;
This day is our Redeemer's birth:

Then let us lift our little hands

To Him who gave His life for man's.

What though our voice be mild and weak? What though we scarce can plainly speak? The God of love will not disdain

To hear our lisping infant strain.

Then let us lift our little hands

To Him who gave His life for man's.

If only innocence be meet.
T'approach th' Almighty's mercy-seat,
We sure may dare to venture there,
And in our innocence appear;

So let us lift our little hands

To Him who gave His life for man's.

Our tongues ne'er yet have spoken guile,
Nor faces worn the scorner's smile;

Our hearts are yet from blemish free,
From malice, pride, hypocrisy.

For this let's lift our little hands

To Him who gave His life for man's.

To teach the stubborn heart to fear,
He'll listen to the infant's pray'r;
To Him the music of their tongue,
Is sweet as ever Angels sung.

Let us then lift our little hands

To Him who gave His life for man's.

He drew them gently to His side,
Promis'd to be their future guide;

Oh! how He held them to His breast

And with a parent's warmth caress'd!

For this let's lift our little hands

To Him who gave His life for man's.

Our innocence the Saviour gave,

To be men's pattern to the grave;
And warn'd them with the tend'rest care,
To be as meek as children are.

Let us then lift our little hands

To Him who gave His life for man's.

The special care of gracious Heav'n,
To infant innocence is giv'n:
E'en Angels on their footsteps wait
To guard their feeble, helpless state.
For this let's lift our little hands
To Him who gave His life for man's.

Then, brother, why should we despair,
Although we only infants are?

F