Each day her clear melodious song rang out
In praise of Him to whom her life was vowed ;
And many said, who listened to the sound,
That 'twas no mortal's, but an angel's voice.
With music's power her being seemed inspired,
And many, to this day, devoutly think
We owe to her, the pealing organ's notes.
But voice, or lyre, or organ's swelling strains,
All lifted up the same refrain, "To thee,
O God, to thee, I dedicate my days."
In infancy almost, ('twas then the wont,)
Roman she had been betrothed,
To a young
Valerian named; and swiftly speeding time
Soon hurried on the long-fixed nuptial day.
Unfalteringly the maiden then revealed
The sacred vow which she to heaven had made.
Her lover only heard to mock and scoff
At her belief in aught save Jupiter;
But when in softer tones he whispered low
Those honied words so sweet to woman's ear,
She stood erect in maiden dignity,
And told him that an angel watched her fate,
And he unbroken would preserve her vow.
'Twas not in mortal man to hear her words,
And look upon her youthful, beaming face,
So radiant with the light of holiness,
And with her trust in Him the strong to save,
And in his heart purpose of ill preserve ;·
And so Valerian said in softened tones,
"Let me but see this angel, and I yield."
The maid replied, "Ah! how with blinded eyes
Canst thou of me demand, to look on him
Who only in the purer light of Faith
Reveals himself to the believer's gaze?
When from thine eyes the thick scales shall drop off,
Renounced thy sins and idols, thou shalt see
The heavenly watcher in whose care I trust.
A simple maiden may not thee instruct,
But go thou from the city forth and find
The holy Urban, who shall teach thee all
That to our soul's salvation doth pertain."
Scarce knowing how, or why he went,
Valerian left the city walls behind,
And Urban sought, who converse held with God,
As mid the graves of saints he walked and prayed.
The young inquirer was with joy received,
And taught with yearning love redemption's lore,
From golden words writ in the book of God.
He from the fount of living waters drank,
And was athirst no more. Sweet peace and joy
Filled all his soul, and praise inspired his tongue.
In the new faith baptized, he hasted back
To tell the maiden how his quest had sped.
When that he found her she was not alone,
For by her side a winged angel stood;
His hands of light two fragrant crowns upheld
“Of heavenly lilies and of roses " made.
One placed he on the maiden's spotless brow,
The other to the youth he gave, and said,
With this ask any boon thou wilt from heaven."
Valerian on his knees received the gift
With outstretched arms and streaming eyes, and cried,
"My first boon then shall be my brother's soul.
Thou know'st, O God, how mine is knit with his ;
O move his heart e'en to its inmost depths,
That he may know the joys of this new life."
The angel answered that his prayer, well pleased
The ever-listening ear of heaven had heard,
And that he and his brother well-beloved,
The palm of martyrdom at last should bear.
How true the words he spoke, full soon they proved,
For but few moons had waxed, the legend tells,
When on their bended knees, with joyful songs,
These faithful brothers yielded up their lives
Before the statue of great Jupiter.
Full soon the maid the same tribunal called,
And of the doctrines of her faith inquired.
Boldly she answered with unblanching lip,
My trust is in a King whose might and power
Is far above what earthly princes wield.
If so He will ye cannot touch my life ;
And if I die a martyr in His cause
"Tis but in answer to my long raised prayer.
I change my mortal for immortal life.”
She was condemned to a most cruel death;
"Let her be shut up in a boiling bath,"
The prefect cried in rage. Heat it red hot,
And perish thus, all who our gods deny."
'T was done a night and day the fires burned
Beneath the bath where the fair lily laid;
But when the door was op'd, unharmed she seemed.
Fired with new rage, one of her enemies
Then seized an axe, and three strokes on her neck There fell; but though in anguish was her frame, Her soul broke forth in songs of joy and praise. Three days she lived to teach her faith to those Who to her bedside came. Her parting words Bequeathed the house thus hallowed by her death For a perpetual church. E'en in our day
The traveller in Rome may seek it out,
The church of Saint Cecile.
Is but an olden legend, much bedimmed
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