September 8

With trumpets and sound of cornet make a joyful noise before the Lord, the King.

INFINITE CANON AT TOLEDO.

I WOULD this solemn singing Might never cease again,

This melody swinging, ringing, Might never reach Amen;

So wrapt in contemplation With hearts that never tire,

We still might keep our station In this immortal choir.

Outside, the breathless burning Of late September's heat,

The sun that stands at turning Blinds all the whitewashed street;

But these deep-shadowed arches No noonday glare assaults,

No fierce Solano pierces The coolness of these vaults.

Exunge Deus aures,

O Lord our ears anoint,

That we may know Thy glories.

And still this counterpoint:

Handel, Mozart, Beethoven,

Born in what master brain,

Joined, cloven, interwoven,

Repeats the great refrain.

J. MEADE FALKNER

SONG WORSHIP