Welsh Journals

enough now. What does the Psalmist say ? saw the ungodly in prosperity, flourishing like a green bay tree." And the true Christian is like the potatoes, he is underground the weight of this world is heavy on him. But the time will come, my brethren, when the hypocrite will rot away like the potato apples, and the true Christian like a healthy pink eye will rise out of the dust of this world, and shine glorious in the Kingdom of Heaven. Heaven make us potatoes every one of us." (Desunt multa, as Swift would say). 2. Another worthy, unknown to fame, preaching on the Lamb on Mount Zion, and with him seven score and four thousand," and wishing to divide his discourse into the orthodox three heads performed But yesterday thy thousand leaves were stirred To trembling protest by the summer rain, And unaffrighted winged the homing bird In Compiegne, in Compiegne. Remote, serene, thy sentinel trees have stood, Out-posts upon a golden, affluent plain, Guarding the green battalions of the wood, In Compiegne, in Compiegne. O forest cloisters where great Pan has trod, Thy woodland altars witness nature, slain Thy leafless trees accusing point to God, In Compiegne, in Compiegne. What brooding menace lurks in earth and sky, Cries in the tumult of the swollen Aisne, Sighs through each sunless hour that passes by, In Compiegne, in Compiegne. Ye may rebuild your minarets and spires, Restore^your wasted towns, forget your pain, But who shall hide these blackened funeral Cyrtwyd, Jan.. 1915. E. M. Hewetson Nelson the task thus First what will be said on this occasion about this wonderful Lamb will be about the colour of the Lamb. 1. He is a black Lamb. How do you prove that. says some one ? I'll soon tell you. My beloved is black as a raven, chiefest among ten thousand. 2. He is a white Lamb. My beloved is white and ruddy, etc. 3. He is a red Lamb. Who is this that cometh out of Edom his garments red from Bozrah ? Is not this a wonderful Lamb, my dear brethren ? Oh strive to lay hold of this Lamb. Try to get hold of a limb of this Lamb," etc. (To be continued.) THE FOREST OF COMPIEGNE pyres, In Compiegne, in Compiegne.