23 DECEMBER 1922, Page 19

POETRY.

THE SHEPHERDS.

WITH splendour through the watchful skies

The great Star moves in pomp of gold : And round their sheep, with rustic cries

A merry wake the shepherds hold,— They have no mind for steps discreet

Since they their Infant King shall greet.

And now with wondrous joy they leap And round for pretty presents look : One finds the ringlet of a sheep, Another carves a tiny crook And one a whistle fine must take, And one a wether's bell to shake.

And soon upon their way they bound, While all the welkin, star-arrayed, With jocund laughter rings around At that rough carol they have made. And Love alone shall guard their flock This holy night from wolf and rock.

M. M. JonrisoN.