Music: A Monthly Magazine, Devoted to the Art, Science, Technic and Literature of Music, Volumen8

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W. S. B. Mathews, 1895
 

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Página 545 - Therefore to whom turn I but to thee, the ineffable Name? Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with hands! What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the same? Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that thy power expands? There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before...
Página 544 - But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can, Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are! And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man, That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star.
Página 545 - And what is our failure here but a triumph's evidence For the fulness of the days? Have we withered or agonized ? Why else was the pause prolonged but that singing might issue thence? Why rushed the discords in, but that harmony should be prized ? Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear, Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe; But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear ; The rest may reason and welcome ; 'tis we musicians know.
Página 538 - Was a lady such a lady, cheeks so round and lips so red, — On her neck the small face buoyant, like a bell-flower on its bed, O'er the breast's superb abundance where a man might base his head ? vI.
Página 539 - So, an octave struck the answer. Oh, they praised you, I dare say! "Brave Galuppi! that was music! good alike at grave and gay! I can always leave off talking, when I hear a master play.
Página 538 - What? Those lesser thirds so plaintive, sixths diminished, sigh on sigh, Told them something? Those suspensions, those solutions — "Must we die?" Those commiserating sevenths — "Life might last! we can but try!" "Were you happy?
Página 544 - And the emulous heaven yearned down, made effort to reach the earth, As the earth had done her best, in my passion, to scale the sky: Novel...
Página 540 - Est fuga, volvitur rota. On we drift: where looms the dim port? One, Two, Three, Four, Five, contribute their quota; Something is gained, if one caught but the import — Show it us, Hugues of Saxe-Gotha!
Página 545 - What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the same? Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that thy power expands? There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
Página 543 - And another would mount and march, like the excellent minion he was, Ay, another and yet another, one crowd but with many a crest, Raising my rampired walls of gold as transparent as glass, Eager to do and die, yield each his place to the rest...

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