ica, Mason's "Amaland," with
fugue in the second and third lines, has long been a favorite.

"WHILE SHEPHERDS WATCHED THEIR FLOCKS."

This was written by Nahum Tate (1652-1715), and after two hundred years
the church remembers and sings the song. Six generations have grown up
with their childhood memory of its pictorial verses illustrating St.
Luke's Christmas story.

While shepherds watched their flocks by night,
All seated on the ground,
The angel of the Lord came down
And glory shone around.

"Fear not" said he, for mighty dread
Had seized their troubled mind,
"Glad tidings of great joy I bring
To you and all mankind."

_THE TUNE._

Modern hymnals have substituted "Christmas" and other more or less
spirited tunes for Read's "Sherburne," which was the first musical
translation of the hymn to American ears. But, to show the traditional
hold that the New England fugue melody maintains on the people, many
collections print it as alternate tune. Some modifications have been
made in it, but its survival is a tribute to its real merit.

Daniel Read, the creator of "Sherburne," "Windham," "Russia,"
"Stafford," "Lisbon," and many other tunes characteristic of a bygone
school of psalmody, was born in Rehoboth, Mass., Nov. 2, 1757. He
published _The American Singing Book_, 1785, _Columbian Harmony_, 1793,
and several other collections. Died in New Haven, Ct., 1836.

"IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR."

Rev. Edmund Hamilton Sears, author of this beautiful hymn-poem, was born
at Sandisfield, Berkshire Co., Mass., April 6, 1810, and educated at
Union College and Harvard University. He became pastor of the Unitarian
Church in Wayland, Mass., 1838. Died in the adjoining town of Weston,
Jan. 14, 1876. The hymn first appeared in the _Christian Register_ in
1857.

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold.

"Peace to the earth, good will to men
From Heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurled
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world.

Above its sad and lonely plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.

_THE TUNE._

No more