Thomas Carlyle.

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43

dole man’ na em’ blem re leased’ plumes breathe crim’ son feath’ ered soared dou’ bly hom’ i ly ser’a phim

THE SERMON OF ST. FRANCIS.

       Up soared the lark into the air,
       A shaft of song, a winged prayer,
       As if a soul, released from pain,
       Were flying back to heaven again.

       St. Francis heard; it was to him
       An emblem of the Seraphim;
       The upward motion of the fire,
       The light, the heat, the heart’s desire.

       Around Assisi’s convent gate
       The birds, God’s poor who cannot wait,
       From moor and mere and darksome wood
       Came flocking for their dole of food.

       “O brother birds,” St. Francis said,
       “Ye come to me and ask for bread,
       But not with bread alone to-day
       Shall ye be fed and sent away.

       “Ye shall be fed, ye happy birds
       With manna of celestial words;
       Not mine, though mine they seem to be,
       Not mine, though they be spoken through me.

       “O, doubly are ye bound to praise
       The great Creator in your lays;
       He giveth you your plumes of down,
       Your crimson hoods, your cloaks of brown.

       “He giveth you your wings to fly
       And breathe a purer air on high,
       And careth for you everywhere,
       Who for yourselves so little care!”

       With flutter of swift wings and songs
       Together rose the feathered throngs,
       And singing scattered far apart;
       Deep peace was in St. Francis’ heart.

       He knew not if the brotherhood
       His homily had understood;
       He only knew that to one ear
       The meaning of his words was clear.

Longfellow.

From “Children’s Hour and Other Poems.”  Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Publishers.

[Illustration:  ST. FRANCIS PREACHING]

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LAYS, songs.

ASSISI ([:a]s s[=e]’ ze), a town of Italy, where St. Francis was born in 1182.

What does “manna of celestial words” mean?

What is the singular form of seraphim?

Memory Gem: 

Every word has its own spirit,
True or false, that never dies;
Every word man’s lips have uttered
Echoes in God’s skies.

Adelaide A. Procter.

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44

GLORIA IN EXCELSIS.

Gloria in excelsis! 
Sound the thrilling song;
In excelsis Deo! 
Roll the hymn along.

Gloria in excelsis! 
Let the heavens ring;
In excelsis Deo! 
Welcome, new-born King.