Stands burdened with a debt, Which we resolve (if you permit) Shall now be promptly met. To this intent, a Grand Bazaar Is held by us to-day; And fifteen hundred pounds the sum We fondly hope to pay. The cause is good; then quickly prove Your gratitude for health, By giving with a willing heart Of your abundant wealth. Or if not quite disposed to give, Then freely buy, I pray, Of the rich stores of wondrous art Displayed for you to-day. Work marvellously wrought, and rare As beautiful you'll find; With good plain, homely garments, too, Of varied form and kind. And lovely flowers, in sweet perfume, Breathing delight and love; Discoursing, in mute eloquence, Of fadeless ones above. Groups, too, of artificial flowers, To serve when others die; Like photos of dear absent friends, Delighting heart and eye. Presents there are for Boys and Girls, And darling Pets at home, And souvenir for Grandmamma, If too infirm to come. And, mingling with the festive scene, Is music's witching voice, Swelling, in harmony divine, Man's spirit to rejoice. Beneath the master hand of "Best" The organ springs to life, Like some roused monster in his lair, Goaded to deadly strife. Attuned to Angel sweetness, then, And tremblings of delight,