ith a clang to the world and its people;
And merrily sounding afar and anear,
Proclaim the glad tidings, "The New Year is here!"

And from other steeples the noise is resounding,
As jubilant bells the same story are sounding;
And so 'mid the clanging, the poor old year dies,
And the new youthful year opens wondering eyes

_And so does the baby_! So frightened is he,
His shrill cry rings out with the bells' jubilee,
And quick to his side the young mother has sped,
To bend o'er her baby's her own golden head

While Grandpa and Grandma are listening to hear,
'Mid the clanging of bells, the young voice sweet and clear,
Which tenderly lays on the New Year the song
Of the dear "Old-time lullaby" cherished so long

So softly it floats thro' the shadowy gloom
Which tenderly broods o'er the old fashioned room,
Where Grandma and Grandpa, while steeple bells ring,
Again lift their tremulous voices and sing--

[Illustration: Musical score G major, text follows:]

"Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber, Holy
angels guard thy bed, Heavenly .. blessings
without number Gently fall upon thy head."

[Illustration]
CRADLE HYMN.
_By Isaac Watts, D.D._

Hush, my dear! Lie still, and slumber!
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings, without number,
Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe! Thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied.

How much better thou'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven He descended,
And became a child like thee!

Soft and easy is thy cradle:
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When His birth-place was a stable,
And His softest bed was hay.

Blessed Babe! What glorious features,--
Spotless fair, divinely bright!
Must he dwell with brutal creatures?
How could angels bear the sight?

Was there nothing but a manger,
Cursed sinners could afford,
To receive the Heavenly Stranger?
Did they thus affront the Lord?

Soft, my child! I did not chide thee,
Though my song might sound too hard;
'Tis thy mother sits beside thee,
And her arm shall be thy guard.

Yet to read the shameful story,
How the Jews abused their King;
How they served the Lord of Glory,
Makes me angry while I sing.

See the kinder shepherds round Him,
Telling wonders from the sky!
Where they sought Him, there they found Him,
With His Virgin-Mother by.

See the lovely Babe a-dressing:
Lovely Infant, how He smiled!
W