Poetry
... RA~, - I THE~. M RAL OF THIS MILD CHRISTMAS.' Another year i9 nearly gone, Avnd COtritm5s comes again, tse passhig time, - l ntO twith icy tread, in snowy nantle wrapt, t A* he was wont to steal Upon the seene.. The vra blod coursees l his throbbitag veins - ili forehead wvears no rigid aspect now To oh ii the poor with' cold severity, - And smiles arouid hbs thin lips playing, cheer, 's . ...