" the Shepherds said,
"That brightens through the rocky glen?"
And angels, answering overhead,
Sang, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!"

'Tis eighteen hundred years and more
Since those sweet oracles were dumb;
We wait for Him, like them of yore;
Alas, He seems so slow to come!

But it was said, in words of gold
No time or sorrow e'er shall dim,
That little children might be bold
In perfect trust to come to Him.

All round about our feet shall shine
A light like that the wise men saw,
If we our living wills incline
To that sweet Life which is the Law.

So shall we learn to understand
The simple faith of shepherds then,
And, clasping kindly, hand in hand,
Sing, "Peace on earth, good-will to men."

And they who do their souls no wrong,
But keep at eve the faith of morn,
Shall daily hear the angel song,
"To-day the Prince of Peace is born!"

LOWELL

THE BARREN LANDS

Long before the treeless wastes are reached, the forests cease to be
forests except by courtesy. The trees--black and white spruce, the
Canadian larch, and the gray pine, willow, alder, etc.--have an
appearance of youth; so that the traveller would hardly suppose them to
be more than a few years old, at first sight. Really this juvenile
appearance is a species of second childhood; for, on the shores of the
Great Bear Lake, four centuries are necessary for the growth of a trunk
not as thick as a man's wrist. The further north the more lamentably
decrepit becomes the appearance of these woodlands, until, presently,
their sordidness is veiled by thick growths of gray lichens--the
"caribou moss," as it is called--which clothe the trunks and hang down
from the shrivelled boughs. And still further north the trees become
mere stunted stems, set with blighted buds that have never been able to
develop themselves into branches; until, finally, the last vestiges of
arboreal growth take refuge under a thick carpet of lichens and mosses,
the characteristic vegetation of the Barren Grounds.

Nothing more dismal than the winter aspect of these wastes can be
imagined. The Northern forests are silent enough in winter time, but the
silence of the Barren Grounds is far more profound. Even in the depths
of midwinter the North-Western bush has voices and is full of animal
life. The barking cry of the crows (these birds are the greatest
ima