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This "Ode for St. Cecilia's Day," one of his best poems, was written at the request of a musical society for its celebration of St. Cecilia's Day, the twenty-second of November.

St. Cecilia was a Roman virgin who suffered martyrdom in the second or third century. She is the patron saint of music, and the reputed inventor of the organ. A legend says that an angel, charmed by her music, brought her each night a rose from heaven.

From harmony, from heavenly harmony
This universal frame began ;
When Nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,

And could not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high,
"Arise, ye more than dead."

Then cold and hot and moist and dry
In order to their stations leap,

And Music's power obey.

From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began :

From harmony to harmony

Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in man.

What passion cannot music raise and quell !
When Jubal struck the corded shell,

His listening brethren stood around,

And, wondering on their faces fell

To worship that celestial sound :
Less than a god they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that shell,

That spoke so sweetly and so well.

What passion cannot music raise and quell ?

The trumpet's loud clangor
Excites us to arms

With shrill notes of anger

And mortal alarms.

The double double double beat

Of the thundering drum

Cries, "Hark! the foes come;
Charge, charge! 'tis too late to retreat."

The soft complaining flute

In dying notes discovers
The woes of hopeless lovers,

Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute.

Sharp violins proclaim

Their jealous pangs and desperation,

Fury, frantic indignation,

Depth of pains and height of passion,

For the fair, disdainful dame.

But oh! what art can teach,
What human voice can reach
The sacred organ's praise ?

Notes inspiring holy love,
Notes that wing their heavenly ways
To mend the choirs above.

Orpheus could lead the savage race,
And trees unrooted left their place,
Sequacious of the lyre;

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But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher :
When to her organ vocal breath was given,
An angel heard and straight appeared,
Mistaking earth for heaven.

(Grand Chorus)

As from the power of sacred lays
The spheres began to move,
And sung the great Creator's praise
To all the blessed above;

So when the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And music shall untune the sky.

Cold and hot and moist and dry: the four elemental properties. According to the doctrine of ancient physics, all things were composed of the four elements, air, fire, water, and earth. The higher natures, such as man, were made so by the preponderance of air and fire in their composition. Jū'bal: the inventor of the lyre and the flute. See Genesis iv. 19–21. Sẽ qua cious (shus): following; attendant.

I hold every man a debtor to his profession; from the which as men of course do seek to receive countenance and profit, so ought they of duty to endeavor themselves by way of amends to be a help and ornament thereunto.

- BACON

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The Bird

FROM "THE QUEEN OF THE AIR," BY JOHN RUSKIN

The bird is little more than a drift of the air brought into form by plumes; the air is in all its quills, it breathes through its whole frame and flesh, and glows with air in its flying, like a blown flame: it rests upon the air, subdues it, surpasses it, outraces it; is the air 5 conscious of itself, conquering itself, ruling itself.

Also, into the throat of the bird is given the voice of the air. All that in the wind itself is weak, wild, useless `in sweetness, is knit together in its song. As we may imagine the wild form of the cloud closed into the perfect 10 form of the bird's wings, so the wild voice of the cloud into its ordered and commanded voice; unwearied, rippling through the clear heaven in its gladness, interpreting all intense passion through the soft spring nights, bursting into acclaim and rapture of choir at daybreak, or 15 lisping and twittering among the boughs and hedges through heat of day, like little winds that only make the cowslip bells shake and ruffle the petals of the wild

rose.

Also, upon the plumes of the bird are put the colors of 20 the air: on these the gold of the cloud, that cannot be gathered by any covetousness; the rubies of the clouds, the vermilion of the cloud-bar, and the flame of the cloudcrest, and the snow of the cloud, and its shadow, and the melted blue of the deep wells of the sky - all these, seized 25 by the creating spirit, and woven into films and threads of plume; with wave on wave following and fading along

breast and throat and opened wings, infinite as the dividing of the foam and the sifting of the sea sand - even the white down of the cloud seeming to flutter up between the stronger plumes, seen, but too soft for touch.

The Flight in the Heather

BY R. L. STEVENSON

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894): A Scottish novelist and poet, several of whose charming poems for children have been given in the earlier books of this series. He was educated for an engineer, but studied law, and afterward adopted literature as his profession. Among his best-known books are "Treasure Island," " Kidnapped," " Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde," "Virginibus Puerisque," and "A Child's Garden of Verse."

This selection is from "Kidnapped," the story of the adventures of David Balfour, a Scottish lad, in the year 1751. David and his companion, Alan Breck, were suspected of murder. They were unwilling to inform against the criminal, who was known to them, and they took refuge in flight. The scenes of their flight - Glencoe, Appin, and the other places mentioned are in the western part of Scotland, near the coast.

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Sometimes we walked, sometimes ran; and as it drew on to morning, walked ever the less and ran the more. Though upon its face that country appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people, of which we must have passed more than twenty, hidden in 10 quiet places of the hills. When we came to one of these, Alan would leave me in the way, and go himself and rap upon the side of the house and speak awhile at the win