A NEW YEAR

Over the threshold a gallant new-comer
Steppeth with tread that is royal to see;
White as the winter-time, rosy as summer,
Hope in his eyes, and with laugh ringing free.
Lo! in his hands there are gifts overflowing,
Promises, prophecies, come in his train;
O'er him the dawn in its beauty is glowing,
Banishing shadows of sorrow and pain.

Oh, welcome, New Year! with your stainless white pages,
Though we may blot them ere long with our tears;
So it has been through the long passing ages,

Worn with the footprints of close crowding years.
Welcome, sweet Year! may the full-handed hours
Find us like servants, trusty and true,

Using with earnest devotion our powers
To be worthy our Master and worthy of you.

UNKNOWN.

THE NEW YEAR

Who comes dancing over the snow,

His soft little feet all bare and rosy?
Open the door, though the wild winds blow,
Take the child in and make him cosey.

Take him in and hold him dear,

He is the wonderful glad New Year.

DINAH MARIA MULOCK.

THE NEW YEAR

Ring out, O bells, ring silver-sweet o'er hill and moor and fell!

In mellow echoes, let your chimes their hopeful story tell. Ring out, ring out, all-jubilant, this joyous glad refrain: "A bright New Year, a glad New Year, hath come to us again!"

Oh, who can say how much of joy within it there may be Stored up for us, who listen now to your sweet melody? Good-bye, Old Year! Tried, trusty friend, thy tale at last is told.

O New Year, write thou thine for us in lines of brightest gold!

UNKNOWN.

ADDRESS TO THE NEW YEAR

Friend, come thou like a friend;

And, whether bright thy face,

Or dim with clouds we cannot comprehend,

We'll hold out patient hands, each in his place,

And trust thee to the end,

Knowing thou leadest onwards to those spheres
Where there are neither days nor months nor years.

DINAH MARIA MULOCK.

WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY

WASHINGTON

HERE may the wearied eye repose

W When gazing on the Great;

Where neither guilty glory glows,

Nor despicable state?
Yes-one-the first-the last-the best-
The Cincinnatus of the West,
Whom envy dare not hate,

Bequeath the name of Washington,

To make men blush there was but one!

LORD BYRON.

THE TWENTY-SECOND OF FEBRUARY

Pale is the February sky,

And brief the mid-day's sunny hours;

The wind-swept forest seems to sigh

For the sweet time of leaves and flowers.

Yet has no month a prouder day,

Not even when the summer broods

O'er meadows in their fresh array,

Or autumn tints the glowing woods.

NOTE.-Selections suitable for Washington's Birthday will be found also under Independence Day, Patriots' Day, Bunker Hill Day, and Flag Day.

For this chill season now again

Brings, in its annual round, the morn
When, greatest of the sons of men,
Our glorious Washington was born.

Lo, where, beneath an icy shield,
Calmly the mighty Hudson flows!
By snow-clad fell and frozen field,

Broadening, the lordly river goes.

The wildest storm that sweeps through space,
And rends the oak with sudden force,

Can raise no ripple on his face,

Or slacken his majestic course.

Thus, 'mid the wreck of thrones, shall live
Unmarred, undimmed, our hero's fame,
And years succeeding years shall give
Increase of honors to his name.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

ODE FOR WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY

Welcome to the day returning,
Dearer still as ages flow,

While the torch of Faith is burning,

Long as Freedom's altars glow!

See the hero whom it gave us

Slumbering on a mother's breast;

For the arm he stretched to save us,
Be its morn forever blest!

Hear the tale of youthful glory,

While of Britain's rescued band Friend and foe repeat the story,

Spread his fame o'er sea and land, Where the red cross, proudly streaming, Flaps above the frigate's deck, Where the golden lilies, gleaming, Star the watch-towers of Quebec.

Look! The shadow on the dial

Marks the hour of deadlier strife;

Days of terror, years of trial,
Scourge a nation into life.

Lo, the youth, becomes her leader!
All her baffled tyrants yield;
Through his arm the Lord hath freed her;
Crown him on the tented field!

Vain is Empire's mad temptation!
Not for him an earthly crown!
He whose sword hath freed a nation
Strikes the offered sceptre down.
See the throneless Conqueror seated,
Ruler by a people's choice;
See the Patriot's task completed;
Hear the Father's dying voice!

"By the name that you inherit, By the sufferings you recall,

Cherish the fraternal spirit;

Love your country first of all! Listen not to idle questions

If its bands may be untied; Doubt the patriot whose suggestions Strive a nation to divide!"