And striped its pure, celestial white
With streakings of the morning light;
Then from his mansion in the sun
She called her eagle-bearer down,
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land.
Majestic monarch of the cloud!

Who rear'st aloft thy regal form,
To hear the tempest-trumpings loud,
And see the lightning lances driven,
When strive the warriors of the storm,
And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven;
Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given
To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulfur smoke,
To ward away the battle-stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
The harbingers of victory!

Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly,
The sign of hope and triumph high,
When speaks the signal trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on;
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier eye shall brightly turn
To where thy sky-born glories burn,
And, as his springing steps advance,
Catch war and vengeance from the glance
And when the cannon-mouthings loud
Heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud,
And gory sabers rise and fall,

Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall;
Then shall thy meteor-glances glow,
And cowering foes shall sink beneath

Each gallant arm that strikes below

That lovely messenger of death.

Flag of the seas! on ocean wave
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave;
When death, careering on the gale,
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And freighted waves rush wildly back
Before the broadside's reeling rack,
Each dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly
In triumph o'er his closing eye.

Flag of the free heart's hope and home,
By angel hands to valor given;

Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in heaven.

For ever float that standard sheet!

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.

"The American Flag."

BRILLIANCY OF TONE

1. "Bell" exercise. Inhale deeply and fully; compress the air against the closed lips until they burst open on the word bell. Immediately place the tongue against the roof of the mouth to utter the sound of l, and hold the sound as long as possible, allowing it to die away very gradually in force. Avoid breathiness and violence in the explosion. Remember that the motive power should come from the abdominal muscles, and on no account from the throat. Practise this exercise rather gently at first, but later it can be done with increased sharpness and force.

2. "Bel1" resonance. This is similar to the last exercise, but an effort is made to increase the vibration of the voice while dwelling on the letter l. This can be done by making

the voice tremble and by manipulating the tongue slightly. Aim also to bring the head resonance more particularly into play.

3. "Bell" varied. Repeat the first exercise in great variety. Take first the middle pitches of the voice, then the upper and lower keys. Practise considerably on the very low pitches, aiming at clearness. Strike the word bell several times in quick succession. Imitate the striking of a bell, by clear-cut blows, by swells of the voice, and other effects as they suggest themselves.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTISE IN BRILLIANCY

1. Hear the sledges with the bells-silver bells—
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, in the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle

All the heavens, seem to tinkle with a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time, in a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Hear the mellow wedding-bells, golden bells!

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night how they ring out their delight!

From the molten-golden notes, and all in tune,

What a liquid ditty floats

To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats on the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells,

What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!

How it swells! how it dwells

On the Future! how it tells of the rapture that impels

To the swinging and the ringing of the bells, bells, bells

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells

To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

Hear the loud alarum bells-brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night

How they scream out their affright!

Too much horrified to speak,

They can only shriek, shriek, out of tune,

In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire
Leaping higher, higher, with a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor, now-now to sit or never,

By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells of despair!

How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they

outpour

On the bosom of the palpitating air!

Yet the air, it fully knows,

By the twanging and the clanging,

How the danger ebbs and flows; yet the ear distinctly tells In the jangling and the wrangling,

How the danger sinks and swells,

By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells

of the bells

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells

In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!

Hear the tolling of the bells-iron bells!

What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!

In the silence of the night,

How we shiver with affright

At the melancholy menace of their tone!

For every sound that floats

From the rust within their throats is a groan.

And the people-ah, the people—

They that dwell up in the steeple, all alone,

And who tolling, tolling, tolling, in that muffled monotone,

Feel a glory in so rolling on the human heart a stone

They are neither man nor woman—

They are neither brute nor human-they are Ghouls:

And their king it is who tolls;

And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls a pæan from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells with the pæan of the bells!
And he dances and he yells;

Keeping time, time, time, in a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells-of the bells:

Keeping time, time, time, in a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells-of the bells, bells, bells,
To the sobbing of the bells; keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells, in a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells-of the bells, bells, bells—
To the tolling of the bells, bells, bells, bells—
Bells, bells, bells-

To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. "The Bells."

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

2. Thus saying, from her side the fatal key,
Sad instrument of all our wo, she took;
And, toward the gate rolling her bestial train,
Forthwith the huge portcullis high up-drew,
Which, but herself, not all the Stygian powers
Could once have moved; then in the keyhole turns
The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar
Of massy iron or solid rock with ease
Unfastens. On a sudden open fly,

With impetuous recoil and jarring sound,
The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook
Of Erebus. She opened; but to shut

Excelled her power; the gates wide open stood,
That with extended wings a bannered host,

Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through
With horse and chariots ranked in loose array;
So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth
Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame.
"Discord."

JOHN MILTON.