Go, Michael, of celestial armies prince,
And thou, in military prowess next,
Gabriel; lead forth to battle these my sons
Invincible; lead forth my armed Saints,
By thousands and by millions ranged for fight,
Equal in number to that godless crew

Rebellious. Them with fire and hostile arms
Fearless assault; and, to the brow of Heaven
Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss
Into their place of punishment, . . .”

So spake the Sovran Voice; and clouds began
To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll
In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign
Of wrath awaked; nor with less dread the loud
Ethereal trumpet from on high gan blow.
At which command the Powers Militant,
That stood for Heaven, in mighty quadrate join'd
Of union irresistible, moved on

In silence their bright legions to the sound
Of instrumental harmony, that breathed
Heroic ardour to adventurous deeds
Under their godlike leaders, in the cause
Of God and His Messiah. On they move,
Indissolubly firm; nor obvious hill,

Nor straitening vale, nor wood, nor stream, divides
Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground
Their march was, and the passive air upbore

Their nimble tread.

...

Strange to us it seemed

At first that Angel should with Angel war,

And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet
So oft in festivals of joy and love

Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire,

Hymning the Eternal Father.

MILTON, Paradise Lost, Bk. vi.

September 30.

THE SWALLOWS OF CITEAUX.

UNDER eaves, against the towers, All the spring, their muddy bowers Swallows build about Citeaux. Round the chapter-house and hall, From the dawn to evenfall,

They are fluttering to and fro

On their never-flagging wing;
With the psalms the brethren sing
Blends their loud incessant cry;

In and out the plastered nest
Never taking thought of rest,

Chattering these swallows fly.

They distract the monk who reads, Him as well who tells his beads, Him who writes his chronicle;

In the cloister old and gray

They are jubilant and gay,

In the very church as well.

On the dormitory beds,

In refectory o'er the heads

At the windows rich with paint,

Ever dashing-in and out
With the maddest, noisiest rout
As would surely vex a saint.

To the Abbot then complain
Pious monks :-"Shall these remain
To disturb us at our prayers?

Bid us nests and eggs destroy,
Then the birds will not annoy

Any more our deafened ears."

Quoth the Abbot smiling-"Say,
Have not we too homes of clay,
Quite as fragile, not more fair?
Brothers, and shall we resolve
Their tabernacles to dissolve,

Asking God our own to spare?"

Not another word of blame,
But they turned away in shame.
So the little birds had peace,

And the parapets among

Built and laid, and hatched their young,
Making wonderful increase.

When declined the evening sun,
When the yellow harvest done,
Sat the swallows in a row

On the ridging of the roof,
Patiently, as in behoof

Of a license e'er they'd go.

Forth from out the western door
Came the Abbot; him before

Went a brother with his crook,

And a boy a bell who rung,
And a silver censer swung,

Whilst another bore the book.

Then the Abbot raised his hand, Looking to the swallow band, Saying, "Ite missa est ! Christian birds, depart in peace, As your cares of summer cease, Swallows, enter on your rest. "Now the winter snow must fall, Wrapping earth as with a pall,

And the stormy winds arise.

Go to distant lands where glow
Deathless suns, where falls not snow
From the ever azure skies.

'Go! dear heralds of the road,
To the sweet unknown abode

In the verdant Blessed Isles, Whither we shall speed some day, Leaving crumbling homes of clay

For the land where summer smiles.

"Go in peace! your hours have run ; Go, the day of work is done;

Go in peace, my sons!" he said. Then the swallows spread the wing, Making all the welkin ring

With their cry, and southward sped.

S. BARING GOULD.

Dctober 1.

ONE BY ONE.

ONE by one the sands are flowing,
One by one the moments fall;
Some are coming, some are going-
Do not strive to grasp them all.

One by one thy duties wait thee,
Let thy whole strength go to each;
Let no future dreams elate thee,

Learn thou first what these can teach.

One by one bright gifts from Heaven,
Joys are sent thee here below;
Take them readily when given,
Ready too, to let them go.

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee,
Do not fear an armed band;
One will fade as others reach thee,
Shadows passing thro' the land.

Do not look at life's long sorrow,
See how small each moment's pain;
God will help thee for to-morrow,
Every day begin again.

Every hour that fleets so slowly
Has its task to do or bear;
Luminous the crown and holy,

If thou set each gem with care.