Still through the cloven skies they come With peaceful wings unfurled And still their heavenly music floats O'er all the weary world.

Above its sad and lonely plains They bend on hovering wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing.

_THE TUNE._

No more sympathetic music has been written to these lines than "Carol,"

the tune composed by Richard Storrs Willis, a brother of Nathaniel Parker Willis the poet, and son of Deacon Nathaniel Willis, the founder of the _Youth's Companion_. He was born Feb, 10, 1819, graduated at Yale in 1841, and followed literature as a profession. He was also a musician and composer. For many years he edited the _N.Y. Musical World_, and, besides contributing frequently to current literature, published _Church Chorals and Choir Studies_, _Our Church Music_ and several other volumes on musical subjects. Died in Detroit, May 7, 1900.

The much-loved and constantly used advent psalm of Mr. Sears,--

Calm on the listening ear of night Come heaven's melodious strains Where wild Judea stretches far Her silver-mantled plains,

--was set to music by John Edgar Gould, and the smooth choral with its sweet chords is a remarkable example of blended voice and verse.

"O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM!"

Phillips Brooks, the eloquent bishop of Ma.s.sachusetts, loved to write simple and tender poems for the children of his church and diocese. They all reveal his loving heart and the beauty of his consecrated imagination. This one, the best of his _Christmas Songs_, was slow in coming to public notice, but finally found its place in hymn-tune collections.

O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by; Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasting light; The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary, And gathered all above, While mortals sleep, the angels keep Their watch of wondering love.

O morning stars, together Proclaim the holy birth!

And praises sing to G.o.d the King And peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently, The wondrous gift is given!

So G.o.d imparts to human hearts The blessings of His heaven.

No ear may hear His coming, But in this world of sin, Where meek souls will receive Him still The dear Christ enters in.

Phillips Brooks, late bishop of the diocese of Ma.s.sachusetts, was born in Boston, Dec. 13, 1835; died Jan. 23, 1893. He was graduated at Harvard in 1855, and at the Episcopal Divinity School of Alexandria, Va., 1859. The first ten years of his ministry were spent in Pennsylvania, after which he became rector of Trinity Church, Boston, and was elected bishop in 1891. He was an inspiring teacher and preacher, an eloquent pulpit orator, and a man of deep and rich religious life.

The hymn was written in 1868, and it was, no doubt, the ripened thought of his never-forgotten visit to the "little town of Bethlehem" two years before.

_THE TUNE._

"Bethlehem" is the appropriate name of a tune written by J. Barnby, and adapted to the words, but it is the hymn's first melody (named "St.

Louis" by the compiler who first printed it in the _Church Porch_ from original leaflets) that has the credit of carrying it to popularity.

The composer was Mr. Redner, organist of the Church of the Holy Trinity, Philadelphia, of which Rector Brooks was then in charge. Lewis Henry Redner, born 1831, was not only near the age of his friend and pastor but as much devoted to the interests of the Sunday-school, for whose use the hymn was written, and he had promised to write a score to which it could be sung on the coming Sabbath. Waking in the middle of the night, after a busy Sat.u.r.day that sent him to bed with his brain "in a whirl,"

he heard "an angel strain," and immediately rose and p.r.i.c.ked the notes of the melody. The tune had come to him just in time to be sung. A much admired tune has also been written to this hymn by Hubert P. Main.

_PALM SUNDAY_.

FAURE'S "PALM BRANCHES."

_Sur nos chemins les rameaux et les fleurs Sont repandos--_

O'er all the way green palms and blossoms gay Are strewn to-day in festive preparation, Where Jesus comes to wipe our tears away.

E'en now the throng to welcome Him prepare; Join all and sing.--

Jean Baptiste Faure, author of the words and music, was born at Moulins, France, Jan. 15, 1830. As a boy he was gifted with a beautiful voice, and crowds used to gather wherever he sang in the streets of Paris.

Little is known of his parentage, and apparently the sweet voice of the wandering lad was his only fortune. He found wealthy friends who sent him to the _Conservatoire_, but when his voice matured it ceased to serve him as a singer. He went on with his study of instrumental music, but mourned for his lost vocal triumphs, and his longing became a subject of prayer. He promised G.o.d that if his power to sing were given back to him he would use it for charity and the good of mankind. By degrees he recovered his voice, and became known as a great baritone. As professional singer and composer at the Paris _Grand Opera_, he had been employed largely in dramatic work, but his "Ode to Charity" is one of his enduring and celebrated pieces, and his songs written for benevolent and religious services have found their way into all Christian lands.

His "Palm-Branches" has come to be a _sine qua non_ on its calendar Sunday wherever church worship is planned with any regard to the Feasts of the Christian year.

_EASTER._

Perhaps the most notable feature in the early hymnology of the Oriental Church was its Resurrection songs. Being hymns of joy, they called forth all the ceremony and spectacle of ecclesiastical pomp. Among them--and the most ancient one of those preserved--is the hymn of John of Damascus, quoted in the second chapter (p. 54). This was the proclamation-song in the watch-a.s.semblies, when exactly on the midnight moment at the shout of "Christos egerthe!" ([Greek: Christos egerthe].) "Christ is risen!" thousands of torches were lit, bells and trumpets pealed, and (in the later centuries) salvos of cannon shook the air.

Another favorite hymn of the Eastern Church was the "_Salve, Beate Mane_," "Welcome, Happy Morning," of Fortunatus. (Chap. 10, p. 357.) This poem furnished cantos for Easter hymns of the Middle Ages. Jerome of Prague sang stanzas of it on his way to the stake.

An anonymous hymn, "_Poneluctum, Magdelena_," in medieval Latin rhyme, is addressed to Mary Magdelene weeping at the empty sepulchre. The following are the 3d and 4th stanzas, with a translation by Prof. C.S.

Harrington of Wesleyan University:

Gaude, plaude, Magdalena!

Tumba Christus exiit!

Tristis est peracta scena, Victor mortis rediit; Quem deflebas morientem, Nunc arride resurgentem!

Alleluia!

Tolle vultum, Magdalena!

Redivivum aspice; Vide frons quam sit amoena, Quinque plagas inspice; Fulgent, sic ut margaritae, Ornamenta novae vitae.

Alleluia!

Magdalena, shout for gladness!

Christ has left the gloomy grave; Finished is the scene of sadness; Death destroyed, He comes to save; Whom with grief thou sawest dying, Greet with smiles, the tomb defying.

Hallelujah!

Lift thine eyes, O Magdalena!

Lo! thy Lord before thee stands; See! how fair the thorn-crowned forehead; Mark His feet, His side, His hands; Glow His wounds with pearly whiteness!

Hallowing life with heavenly brightness!

Hallelujah!

The hymnaries of the Christian Church for seventeen hundred years are so rich in Easter hallelujahs and hosannas that to introduce them all would swell a chapter to the size of an encyclopedia--and even to make a selection is a responsible task.

Simple mention must suffice of Luther's--

In the bonds of death He lay;