where the main theme has the last say, now in the bass, amidst the
final festivities.

_LOEFFLER.[A] LA VILLANELLE DU DIABLE_

_(The Devil's Round)_

(After a poem by M. Rollinat. Symphonic poem for Orchestra and Organ)

[Footnote A: Charles Martin Loeffler, born in Alsace in 1861.]

Few pieces of program music are so closely associated with the subject
as this tone picture of the Devil's Round. The translation of M.
Rollinat's "Villanelle," printed in the score is as follows:[A]

Hell's a-burning, burning, burning. Chuckling in clear staccato,
the Devil prowling, runs about.

He watches, advances, retreats like zig-zag lightning; Hell's
a-burning, burning, burning.

In dive and cell, underground and in the air, the Devil, prowling,
runs about.

Now he is flower, dragon-fly, woman, black-cat, green snake; Hell's
a-burning, burning, burning.

And now, with pointed moustache, scented with vetiver, the Devil,
prowling, runs about.

Wherever mankind swarms, without rest, summer and winter, Hell's
a-burning, burning, burning.

From alcove to hall, and on the railways, the Devil, prowling, runs
about.

He is Mr. Seen-at-Night, who saunters with staring eyes. Hell's
a-burning, burning, burning.

There floating as a bubble, here squirming as a worm, the Devil,
prowling, runs about.

He's grand seigneur, tough, student, teacher. Hell's a-burning,
burning, burning.

He inoculates each soul with his bitter whispering: the Devil,
prowling, runs about.

He promises, bargains, stipulates in gentle or proud tones. Hell's
a-burning, burning, burning.

Mocking pitilessly the unfortunate whom he destroys, the Devil,
prowling, runs about.

He makes goodness ridiculous and the old man futile. Hell's
a-burning, burning, burning.

At the home of the priest or sceptic, whose soul or body he wishes,
the Devil, prowling, runs about.

Beware of him to whom he toadies, and whom he calls "my dear sir."
Hell's a-burning, burning, burning.

Friend of the tarantula, darkness, the odd number, the Devil,
prowling, runs about.

--My clock strikes midnight. If I should go to see Lucifer?--Hell's
a-burning, burning, burning; the Devil, prowling, runs about.

[Footnote A: A few translated verses may give an idea of the original
rhythm: