Dwight's Journal of Music: A Paper of Art and Literature, 11-12. kötet

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1858

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113. oldal - And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying: "Here is a story-book Thy Father has written for thee. "Come, wander with me," she said, "Into regions yet untrod; And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God." And he wandered away and away With Nature, the dear old nurse, Who sang to him night and day The rhymes of the universe. And whenever the way seemed long, Or his heart began to fail, She would sing a more wonderful song, Or tell a more marvelous tale.
101. oldal - ... it came even to pass, as the trumpeters and singers were as one, to make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the Lord; and when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music, and praised the Lord, saying, " For he is good ; for his mercy endureth for ever...
196. oldal - THERE is in souls a sympathy with sounds, And as the mind is pitched the ear is pleased With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave ; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
66. oldal - It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; for I am no better than my fathers.
145. oldal - Joining themselves in fatal harmony; That while she with her eyes my heart does bind, She with her voice might captivate my mind. I could have fled from one but singly fair: My disentangled soul itself might save, Breaking the curled trammels of her hair.
298. oldal - Great is the combined voice of men ; the utterance of their instincts, which are truer than, their thoughts : it is the greatest a man encounters, among the sounds and shadows, which make up this World of Time.
379. oldal - Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble; incline thine ear unto me: in the day when I call answer me speedily.
285. oldal - So in the shadow Mabel sits ; Untouched by mirth she sees and hears ; Her smile is sadder than her tears. But cruel eyes have found her out, And cruel lips repeat her name, And taunt her with her mother's shame.
233. oldal - Of new-sprung leaves, their modulations mix Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw, And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone, Aid the full concert : while the stock-dove breathes A melancholy murmur through the whole. Tis love creates their melody, and all This waste of music is the voice of love ; That e'en to birds and beasts, the tender arts Of pleasing teaches.
130. oldal - But soon, ah soon, rebellion will commence, If music meanly borrows aid from sense : Strong in new arms, lo ! giant Handel stands, Like bold Briareus, with a hundred hands ; To stir, to rouse, to shake the soul he comes, And Jove's own thunders follow Mars's drums, Arrest him, empress ; or you sleep no more...

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