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CHRISTMAS EVE.

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COME, guard this night the Christmas pie,
That the thief, though ne'er so sly,
With his flesh-hooks, don't come nigh

To catch it,

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In Herrick's time, the Watchman and Bellman were one and the

The latter appellation arose, we expect, from its being the practice of these ancient guardians of the night to carry with them a large bell, either for the purpose of summoning assistance when required, or else to enable them the more effectually to disturb the slumbers of those who, snug asleep, cared very little to know how the hours happened to be progressing. Now-a-days the Bellman is quite a Christmas character. The office is generally usurped by the beadle or parish constable, who constitutes himself Bellman for one day in the year, viz., Boxing Day, in the hope that, by the presentation of some miserable doggerel rhymes to his “worthy masters,” the inhabitants of the parish, of which he is so important an officer, he may reap a rich and unmerițed reward.

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AN ODE ON THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR.

In numbers, and but these few,
I sing thy Birth, Oh Jesu!
Thou pretty Baby, born here,
With sup'rabundant scorn here :
Who for Thy princely port here,

Hadst for Thy place

Of Birth, a base
Out-stable for thy court here.

Instead of neat inclosures
Of interwoven osiers :
Instead of fragrant posies
Of daffodils, and roses ;
Thy cradle, Kingly Stranger,

As Gospel tells,

Was nothing else
But, here, a homely manger.

But we with silks, not cruells,*
With sundry precious jewels,
And lily-work will dress Thee;
And as we dispossess Thee
Of clouds, we'll make a chamber,

Sweet Babe, for Thee,

Of ivory,
And plastered round with amber.

The Jews they did disdain Thee,
But we will entertain Thee
With glories to await here
Upon thy princely state here,

Worsteds.

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SUNG TO THE KING* IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL.

CHORUS.
WHAT sweeter music can we bring
Than a carol, for to sing
The birth of this our Heavenly King ?
Awake the voice ! awake the string !
Heart, ear, and eye, and everything,
Awake! the while the active finger
Runs division with the singer.

I.

Dark and dull night, fly hence away, And give the honour to this day, That sees December turned to Mav.

* Charles I.

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