de for the 10th of March, 1863. C. 3.3.3. The Prince of Wales. RINCE of the loyal isle, Where Valour, nursed 'neath Freedom's smile, Shielded from hostile band, The homes of our dear mountain land In rudest times of old ; Where bards breathed forth the deathless voice And made the public heart rejoice In all that did belong To Wales the blessed, whose noblest choice We rank thee now among. Our royal harp is heard, Fresh founts of hope and joy have stirr'd On this thy bridal-day! We hail the peerless bride, Thou hast brought home to be our pride- She leaves the charms of northern skies, An angel in fair woman's guise, She comes with love to thee And in the heaven of her eyes Our future QUEEN we see ; e; War's savage reign is o'er ; Peace pours around her golden store, Love, Wales in act that love displays,- To Song, Philosophy, and Art, From which true glory springs, Thy friendly smile and aid impart ! Wales to the noble clings, Thou wilt be shrined within her heart, Descendant of our KINGS. THOMAS CAMBRIA JONES. On the Marriage of the Prince of Wales, 44 OD save our gracious Queen! "God save the Queen! "Send her victorious, "Happy and glorious, "Long to reign over us, "God save the Queen;" God save her Royal Son, Brave, bright, and young Grant him thy favour, Lord! Him from each peril guard! God save the Royal Bride- Denmark's fair daughter, she- Briton and Dane ! Oh! on their nuptial day Thy face to shine! Hear Thou their burning vows; God of the widow ! pour Balm from Thy mercy's store Where woe has beenDry Thou that mourner's tear! That aching bosom cheer! With Thy salvation near, God save the Queen! THE REV. W. POLLOCK, M.A. Byric of Congratulation. On occasion of the Birth of the Prince Albert Victor of Wales. Prayer of the Christian, arise! Deepen to fervours, O Prayer! On wings of happiness fanning the air, Earthly song, and heavenly pray'r, Worshipping, world without end! England rejoices to-day, Singing all over the earth, From Canada round to Cathay, From the Cape to the Shetlands away, The world in its height and its girth The world in its width and its worth, Exulting, as gladly she may, And praising the Father above For the grace and gift of this birth Of an heir to the name that we love! A feeble infant-what beside? Hope foretells, in future days, Haply, our great people's pride, A helpless infant,-and what then? A babe, no more ?-yet who shall guess How much greatness ever lurks In the least of Nature's works, How much might in feebleness? The giant growth, to whelm its small beginnings, Pretty little tender prize, Dear to married lovers' eyes, Ripened from its first fond kiss, Yet art thou, though so sweetly soft and fair And happy angels, full of love, |