MUSICAL THOUGHTS c A Musician s (garden of Verses Compiled, by ELIZA LEYPOLD GOOD ©he Book of £Qusical ©H OUGHTS ‘ '•y^lHERE is sweet music V-J here that softlier falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Music that gentlier on the spirit lies Than tired eye-lids upon tired eyes.” JBSftib UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS UikM// Mild THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS kA Musician's (garden of Verses PuJblisHed hy P. F.VolXazid Sr Cbmpany Chicago, U. S. A.. Copyright, 1912 P. F. VOLLAND & CO. ENTERED AT STATIONERS’ HALL, LONDON (All Rights Reserved) X/ I N wondering dream before my face I saw a massive wall arise, As old as Time, as wide as Space, And high as are the star-strewn skies. And on the arch’s front I read: “Each traveler who enters here Finds what he pleases—stones or bread— I air "he gateway of the year!” — M. J. Sawyer [20] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS O H, MUSIC! Thou who bringest the receding waves of eternity nearer to the weary heart of man as he stands upon the shore and longs to cross over! Art thou the evening breeze of this life, or the morning air of the future one ? —Jean Paul J* J* <£ 'T^HE symphony is liberating itself more and more from its ancient form, and advancing towards the freer style of the symphonic poem. <£ & 0 YMPHONY of fine musician, or sunset, or sea waves roll¬ ing up the beach—what do they mean? They bring to the soul joy in what cannot be defined to the intellectual part, or to calculation. —Walt Whitman g & ORROW is hard to * * * bear, and doubt is slow to clear, * * * * * But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear; The rest may reason and welcome; ’tis we musicians know . The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that He heard it once, we shall hear it by and by. —Robert Browning's “Abt Vogler” [ 21 ] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS B irds— —Whose household words Are songs in many keys— Sweeter than instruments of man e’er caught, Whose habitations in the tree-tops even Are half-way houses on the way to Heaven. —Longfellow & JS & ^JTJCHAT strain again; it had a dying fall; Oh, it came o’er my ear like the sweet south That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odor. — Shakespeare, “Twelfth Night” & £ £ 13 IS very foot has music in it As he comes up the stair. -M. J. Mickle O H, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west, And I smiled to think God’s greatness flowed around our incompleteness, ’Round our restlessness, His rest. —Elizabeth Barrett Browning [ 22 ] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS world is too much with us; late and soon, Striving and getting, we lay waste our powers, Little we see in Nature that is ours— We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon. This sea that bares its bosom to the moon, The winds that will be rising at all hours And are upgathered now, like sleeping flowers— For this, for everything, we are out of tune— They move us not. Great God! I’d rather be A pagan suckled in a creed outworn, So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn, Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea, Or hear old Triton blow his wreath-ed horn. —Wordsworth & & & '■ T OU, my brother, you, my near of kin, Who, some steps above me on the steep, Look smiling back to cheer me ever on, Who lend a hand as I the chasm leap And stay your haste that I the crag may win, Thinking it scorn for strength to climb alone,— You with your morning song, when sings the lark, You, with unflagging purpose at high noon And quiet-hearted trust when comes the dark,— To you I owe it that I climb at all! —Mary Frances Wright [231 THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS * ‘ '“T^ELL me the secret of your life,” said Elizabeth Barrett Browning to Charles Kingsley, “that I may make mine beautiful, too.” He answered: “I had a friend.” o & £ & my pipe I breathed a strain or two, It scarce was music, yet ’twas all I knew. Lo! not far from there in secret dale All silent sat an ancient nightingale; My sparrow notes he heard, thereat awoke, And with a tide of song his silence broke. —Wordsworth <£ <£ ✓T^ARIO singing by the wayside to fill the hat of a beggar; * Jenny Lind using her wonderful powers at any call of charity; de Reszke emptying his pockets to save a family of musicians from starvation, are examples of the generosity of those whose nature music makes responsive to human need. & & £ */\OW things there are that on him who sees JLX A strong vocation lay; And strains there are that whoso hears Shall hear forevermore. —Robert Louis Stevenson [24] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS *^^HE year’s at the Spring And day’s at the morn; Morning’s at seven; The hillside dew-pearled; The lark’s on the wing, The snail’s on the thorn, God’s in His Heaven,— All’s right with the world. <£ £ —Robert Browning & ND Mario could soothe with his tenor note The souls in Purgatory. —Owen Meredith ^ <£ Y"\OW the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. —Milton <£ & & *Jf^HE titles of some of the early piano-forte compositions are unique, as “The Contented Ear and the Quickened Soul,” “Piano-forte Practice for the Delight of Mind and Ear, in six easy Galanterie pieces adapted to modern taste and composed chiefly for young ladies.” _ Kobbe [25] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS O NE morn a lad cried in the street: “Fresh violets” and, as in answer sweet, A blue-bird flung, bouquet-like, clear and strong, Athwart the misty window, his first song. £ J* O UR lives are songs, God writes the words— And we set the music at pleasure, And if they are sad, we can make them glad, Or if sweet, we can make them sweeter. J* & £ *^1HESE are the things I prize And hold of dearest worth: Light of the sapphire skies, Peace of the silent hills, Shelter of forests, comfort of the grass, Music of birds, murmur of little rills, Shadows of clouds that swiftly pass, And after showers the smell of flowers And of the good brown earth, And, best of all, along the way, Friendship and mirth. -Henry van Dyke £ £ & B RAHMS is said to have “thought with his heart, and felt with his head.” [26] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS a NDER the wide and starry sky Dig me a grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and I gladly die, And I lay me down with a will. This is the verse you ’grave for me: “Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill.” —Robert Louis Stevenson S> £ £ Y^O less than twenty of the Bach family were prominent l musicians. For two hundred and forty-one years their names appear in professional life. & & & H ND now ’twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute, And now it was an angel’s voice That made the heavens mute . —Coleridge £ & S f OOK how the stars in heaven Are thick inlaid, like patines of bright gold; There’s not a single orb that thou beholdest But in its motion like an angel sings, Still choiring to the young-eyed cherubim. —Shakespeare [27] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS ~~J jf S the moon’s pale splendor O’er the faint cold starlight of Heaven Is thrown, So thy voice most tender To the strings without soul has given Its own. —Shelley T^JTHEN I consider Life and its few years— \A/ A wisp of fog betwixt us and the sun— A call to battle, and the battle done Ere the last echo dies within our ears. The burst of music down an unlistening street, I wonder at the idleness of tears. Loose me from tears that I may see aright How each hath back what once he stayed to weep: Homer, his sight; David, his little lad. —Reese Jt Jt £ I T IS Beethoven’s wide human sympathy that makes him one of the world’s greatest musicians. £ <£ Jt NCIENT oratorios were divided into two parts with a sermon between. [28] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS heard the Angelus from convent towers, C As if a better world conversed with ours. —Longfellow & & & HAT’S the wise thrush; He sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture That first, fine, careless rapture. —Robert Browning & £ 0 UCCESS! Would you win it and wear its bright token? Smile and step out to the drummer’s light lilt; Fight on till the last inch of sword-blade is broken, Then do not say die—fight on with the hilt. —Mary Markwell jQfUCH songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the Benediction That follows after prayer. —Longfellow & & 14 ^^ROGRAM MUSIC” describes natural scenes or ex- periences in life to which the composer gives in the title some hint of his idea. [29] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS ■TTS the bell that high in some cathedral swings, Stirred by whatever thrill, with its own music rings, So finer souls give forth, to each vibrating tone, Impinging on their life a music of their own. — W. W . Story ^ St & -/\OWN Memory’s dim arcade in centuried gloom Rises Cremona and the lonely room Where immortality was wrought in wood; Where Stradivari, in his attic shop, Drained his aspiring soul-life, drop by drop, To give his works their lasting lustihood. — A. L. Donaldson St St St r my hand slacked, I should rob God, since He is fullest good— Leaving a blank instead of violins; He could not make Antonio Stradivari’s violins Without Antonio. —George Eliot's “Stradivarius” / St St St *^rer\ITH a clear sky you will have friends in plenty, but let fortune frown, then your friends will prove like the strings of the lute, of which you will tighten ten before you will find one that will bear the stretch and keep the pitch. [30] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS SCHUBERT’S UNFINISHED SYMPHONY B ENEATH the silver of the moon, full-blown, A spider spins his net upon the lawn, And one by one the silken threads are drawn Until he rests upon his finished throne; So thou, suave Master, with soft threads of tune, Hast woven from one theme a wondrous web Of melody serene, most wondrous sweet, A moon-lit cobweb spun with rhythmic rune. — A. L. Donaldson HE distinguishing trait of Haydn is a V-/ doors feeling, an “after-church” quality of childlike humor and hilarity. certain out-of- or “out-of-school” & & & THE CHILDREN ^E are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said, For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead. & —Longfellow 13 O play in time is the politeness of music. [31] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS jQ^ERENE, I fold my hands and wait, fi/ Nor care for wind nor tide nor sea; I rave no more ’gainst time or fate, For lo! my own shall come to me. I stay my haste, I make delays— For what avails this eager pace? I stand amid the eternal ways And what is mine shall know my face. Asleep, awake, by night or day, The friends I seek are seeking me, No wind can drive my bark astray Nor change the tide of destiny. —John Burroughs OW much beauty there is—wild, savage, perhaps, but J—C how tart-sweet—in mere whistling. It is four-fifths of the utterance of birds. —Walt Whitman & <£ Jt HE program of a piano recital is usually made to cover the three epochs of musical thought. It opens with a composition by Bach, who represents the School of Counterpoint. Then follow numbers by Beethoven, Mozart and their con¬ temporaries standing for the classical school and the Sonata form. A third group includes Schumann, Chopin, Liszt and others, representing the modern school. [32] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS I SAW the long line o£ the vacant shore, The sea-weed, and the shells upon the sand And the brown rocks left bare on every hand, As if the ebbing tide would flow no more. Then heard I, more distinctly than before, The ocean breathe, and its great breast expand, And hurrying came on the defenseless land The insurgent waters with tumultuous roar. All thought and feeling and desire, I said, Love, laughter and the exultant joy of song, Have ebbed from me forever. Suddenly o’er me They swept again from their deep ocean bed, And in a tumult of delight, and strong As youth, and beautiful as youth, upbore me. —Longfellow Y'f GREAT musician once said: “If I fail to practice for one day, I, myself, know it; if for two days, my friends know it; if for three days, the public know it.” & 3 S B Y music, minds an equal temper know, Nor swell too high, nor sink too low, If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, Music her soft, persuasive voice applies, Or, when the soul is press’d with cares, Exalts her in enlivening airs. —Pope [33] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS 'J^HOSE He approves that ply the trade, That rock the child, that wed the maid, That with weak virtues, weaker hands, Sow gladness in the peopled lands, And still with laughter, song and shout Spin the great wheel of earth about. —Robert Louis Stevenson Jt I HAVE been playing Mendelssohn’s Spring Song. It is almost too delicate for anything save the violin, unless some silver flute could capture the ripple and rush of it. —Myrtle Reed & & 4 f LIGHT along the hills, Laughter, silvery, gay, The Sun-god wakes, A blue-bird trills; It is day. —Paul Lawrence Dunbar & £ 'T^HE rain streams down like harp-strings from the sky, The wind, that world-old harpist, sitteth by And ever, as he sings his low refrain, He plays upon the harp-strings of the rain. —Robert Louis Stevenson [34] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS J UST whistle a bit if the night be drear And the stars refuse to shine, And a gleam that mocks the starlight clear Within you glows benign. Till the dearth of light in the glowing skies Is lost to the sight of your soul-lit eyes— What matters the absence of moon or star? The light within is the best by far. Just whistle a bit if your heart be sore, ’Tis a wonderful balm for pain. Just pipe some old melody o’er and o’er Till it soothes like summer rain. —Paul Lawrence Dunbar & & S 0 TEP wid de banjo an’ glide wid de fiddle; Dis ain’ no time for to pottah an’ dawdle, Fo’ Xmas is cornin’, it’s right on de way, An’ dey’s hours to dance ’fo’ de break o’ day. & £ £ T*ET us once go dreaming down the old, old way, Though the mantle of December hide the face of May, Something of the old songs with us will remain While we weave the gray world into green again. —Akerman [35] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS I F architecture is frozen music, then the New York Times Building must be Sister Mary Jane’s top, high note. —Oliver Herford <£ <£ S CHUMANN was the first to write a theme with the accom¬ paniment scored both above and below it, making the melody shine like a thread of gold on an arabesque background. m "VWTOULD I could crown all joy and melody With one unbroken flowering wreath of song, Fashioned with care and flung Life’s path along To thrill a listening world with ecstasy. Would I could speak the thoughts that, like the sea, Filling its hollow caves with murmurs long, Arise unbidden, musical and strong, Flooding my stammering speech resistlessly. Would I could act and live—not dream and die; Move with the moving stars, shine with the sun, Fulfill my being’s laws harmoniously. But ever are my noblest parts undone; An angel bars with flaming sword the gate Of Life, and, at his stern command, I wait. & & USIC lifts us on high and builds a soft cloud under our cares and sorrows. —Goethe [36] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS 'JT'sOVE is a bubble, J ^ Love is a trouble, Love is a toil and Love is a sin. Love is sweet honey, Love is cold money, Love is a sigh and Love is a grin. Love is a jig to dance you a measure, Love is a dirge to sing to your grief, Love is sweet wine to brighten your pleasure, Love is the North Wind, and Man the dead leaf. & S S f Y OR peaceful was the night A*' Whereon the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began. The winds with wonder wist Smoothly the waters kist, Which now have quite forgot to rave, Whilst birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. — Milton’s Hymn to the Nativity n & £ & •ET me but make the songs of a nation And I care not who shall make her laws. [37] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS J UST as now you play a piece without the music and do not think what notes you strike though once you picked them out by slow and patient toil, so, if you begin of set purpose, you will learn the law of kindness in utterance so perfectly that it will be second nature to you and make more music in your heart than all the songs the sweetest voice has ever sung. —-Frances E . Willard & & & -g^VORAK, a Bohemian composer, wrote during his resi- dence in New York “The New World’ Symphony, in which he uses plantation songs for his themes. S £ 0 CHUMANN’S music, in its clear-cut, delicate phrasing, approaches more nearly the effect of human speech than any other piano-forte music. £ & & Q HOPIN’S Mazurkas have been called the Dances of the Soul. & & "T^ECHNICAL power means the ability of the hand to carry out the suggestion of the brain and will, and this will depend upon the speed with which the hand can understand and translate these suggestions into action. —Leschetizky [38] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS iTylFE! I know not what thou art, But know that thou and I must part, But when or how or where we met I own to me’s a secret yet. Life! We’ve been long together Through pleasant and through stormy weather. ’Tis hard to part when friends are dear; Perhaps ’twill cause a sigh, a tear, So steal away, give little warning, Say not “Good-night,” but in some happier clime Bid me “Good-morning.” S <£ & PADEREWSKI O N concert platforms he performs, Where ladies (matrons, maids and misses) Surround his feet in perfect swarms And try to waft him fat, damp kisses, Till he takes refuge in his hair And sits serenely smiling there. As he makes the keyboard smart, Or softly on its surface lingers, He plays upon the public’s heart And holds it there beneath his fingers, Caresses, teases, pokes or squeezes— Does just exactly as he pleases. —Harry Graham [39] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS E E placed thee midst this dance Of plastic circumstance, This present thou, forsooth, would’st fain arrest; Machinery just meant To give thy soul its bent, Try thee* and turn thee forth, Sufficiently impressed. —Robert Browning O give himself is the controlling impulse in the heart of every musical artist, to impart to others the joy he feels; this is the dominant motive in his life. —Elbert Hubbard £ £ £ VX HE interpretive artist deserves a place no whit beneath that of the composer. No two composers have influenced musical progress in America more than Anton Rubinstein by his playing, and Theodore Thomas, who was not a composer. —Henry Hanchett # # * 7*ET the organ moan her sorrow to the roof— I have told the naked stars the grief of man; Let the trumpet snare the foeman to the proof— I have known Defeat and mocked it as I ran. , — Kipling’s “Song of the Banjo 99 M THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS 'J^HOROUGHLY characteristic of Chopin, of his Polish nationality, are the Mazurkas, jewels of music with a dash and spirit all their own. £Q & & USIC takes us to the verge of the Infinite and gives us one glimpse beyond. —Carlyle & S & *f\0 great artistic work was ever accomplished by a great effort. A work of genius can only be done by a great man, and he does it without effort. —Carlyle <£ & & H LYRIC is a tiny bird, Gay lover of the garden blooms, Whose little heart is ever stirred By colors and perfumes. Its flights are near the lowly things, Not to the eagle, epic skies— It is content to flash its wings Beneath my loved one’s eyes. —Frank Dempster Sherman g «** ^W\USIC governs the world: it is a gift of God, and closely allied to theology. [41] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS Wv WITHOUT saying so in as many words, I would like ^A/ to let the modern music lover know that if he does not like sonatas he need not be ashamed of the fact. £ £ & I N some of the earliest oratorios there was a ballet and the composer directed that some of the scenes were to be enlivened with “capers” and others given “sedately and reverentially.” Jt & & ^JfHINGS of time have voices, speak and perish; Art and love speak, but their words must be Like sighings of illimitable forests Or waves of an unfathomable sea. —Adelaide Procter <£ £ ft OBERT SCHUMANN has been called the musician for musicians, and Shelley the poet for poets. & I F I could put my woods in song And tell what’s there enjoyed, All men would to my garden throng, And leave the cities void. —Emerson [42] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS 4 I~ND those who heard the singers three Disputed which the best might be, For still their music seemed to start Discordant echoes in each heart. But the great Master said: “I see No best in kind, but in degree; I gave a various gift to each To charm, to strengthen and to teach; These are the three great chords of might, And he whose ear is tuned aright Will hear no discord in the three, But the most perfect harmony.” & HE immediate effect of music is far greater and uncultivated people than on the refined. upon savage intellectually £ I GIVE thee all, I can no more, Though poor the offering be; My heart and lute are all the store That I can bring to thee. & & & —Moore w D when she had passed It seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. —Longfellow [43] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS X5 B Y the wisdom of the centuries I speak, To the tune of yestermorn I set the truth, I, the Joy of Life Unquestioned, I, the Greek, I, the everlasting Wonder Song of Youth. — Kipling’s Song of the Banjo 3 <£ man that hath no music in himself And is not moved by concord of sweet sounds Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils,— Let no such man be trusted. —Shakespeare & Jt light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, And, oh! that eye was in itself a soul. —Byron [44] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS J tf~~ PLEASANT ship is Friendship,- Laden with tears and smiles, Across the storm-swept ocean It sails from the Friendly Isles— Sweet chords hum in its rigging And thrill each straining rope; The wind that fills its canvas Comes from the Cape Good Hope. It enters every harbor To land its precious wares, That he may take who needs them And he may have who cares. 3 3 3 I S IT weakness to be wrought on by exquisite music? To feel the wondrous harmonies searching the subtlest wind¬ ings of your soul, the delicate fibres of life where no memory can penetrate, and binding together your whole being, past and present, in one unspeakable vibration, melting you in one moment with all the tenderness, all the iove that has been scattered through the toilsome years? 3 3 3 —George Eliot I T SEEMS strange to think my violin was once a tree. It must be centuries old, and through all those years it was listening and learning and weaving in with its growth the forest melodies. —Myrtle Reed [45] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS HEN de fiddles am a-singin’ out de oP Virginia Reel \A/ An’ you commence to feel a ticklin’ in yo’ toe an’ in yo’ heel, If you think you’se got religion an’ you wants to keep it, too, You jes’ better come an’ git yo’self clean out of view. —Paul Lawrence Dunbar & & & Y rND oh! the music, and Oh! the way That voice rang out From the donjon tower: “Non ti scordar di me.” & £ -Owen Meredith ' VT SYMPHONY may be regarded as a modulation through /J* three or four moods of a dominant feeling, or a view of life from three or four different standpoints—resolution, pathos, humor, triumph. g & & USIC is love In search of a word. & £ VEN a broad-minded critic like Schumann said of Wagner in the beginning of his career: “The trouble with Wagner is that he is not a musician.” [46] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS -Keats ODE TO THE NIGHTINGALE -/TEACH me half the gladness That thy soul must know; Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world would listen then As I am listening now. £ <£ & SLEEP SONG TjORGET! Forget! The tide of life is turning, The waves of light ebb slowly down the west, Along the edge of dark some stars are burning, To guide thy spirit safely to an isle of rest; A little rocking on the tranquil deep Of song to soothe thy yearning, A little slumber and a little sleep— And so forget, forget. —Henry van Dyke *2^^HANKS to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears, To me, the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that too often lie too deep for tears. — Wordsworth. [47] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS "Vff^HEN young Liszt was taking an examination in theology vA/ before receiving the title of “Abbe,” his professor remarked: “That young man will make an excellent musician but a poor abbe.” £ £ I SEND my heart up To thee, all my heart In this my singing, For the stars help me, And the sea bears part. —Robert Browning 3 ^TW^HAT is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days— Then the sun tries the earth, if it be in tune, And over it gently his warm ear lays. The little bird sits at his door in the sun, A-tilt like a blossom amidst the leaves, And lets his illumined being run With the deluge of summer he receives. —Lowell £YOME to church repair, Not for the doctrine, But the music there. —Pope Mi THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS *pTE is dead, the great musician, l He has moved a little nearer To the Master of all music, To the Master of all singing. -Longfellow B ECAUSE of its opportunities for soul expansion, music has ever attracted the strong, free souls of earth. The most profound truths, the most terrible ideas may be incor¬ porated within the walls of a symphony and the police be none the wiser. Suppose some Russian professional supervisor of artistic anarchy really knew what arrant doctrines Tschac- kowsky preached! & & £ 'l^'OVE is thine, For love is joy and grief, And trembling doubt, and certain, sure belief, And fear, and hope and longing unexpressed In pain most human, and in rapture brief, Almost divine. Henry van Dyke $ -BOUT fifty years ago Count Zicci, a student of the piano at the Vienna Conservatory, accidentally shot off his right hand whilst hunting. He set about developing the left hand and was able at last to play a whole concert program. He has composed about a dozen pieces for the left hand alone. [49] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS I THY SHEPHERD, pipe, and sweet is every sound, $ Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro’ the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms— And murmuring of innumerable bees. * * * —Tennyson * 5 * * 5 * Y^UT hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity. —Wordsworth ^ I N Bach’s time a poet thus described the tranquil fashion of clavichord playing then in vogue: “Those dancing chips O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait.” & & jjVER the shoulders and slopes of the dune, I saw the white daisies go down to the sea, A host in the sunshine, an army in June, The people God sent us to set our hearts free. The bobolinks rallied them up from the dell, The orioles whistled them out of the wood, And all of their singing was: “Earth, it is well,” And all of their dancing was: “Life, thou art good.” —Bliss Carman [So] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS ' WW S AGNER spoke of Beethoven’s string quartets as works \A/ through which “music first raised herself to an equal height with the poetry and painting of the greatest periods of the past.” ^ VERY inarticulate prayer Beating about the depths of pain or bliss, Like some bewildered bird That seeks its nest but knows not where it is, Imprisoned waits for thee. —Henry van Dyke & & & If N ORIOLE, perched on the topmost point of my tallest evergreen, opened his golden throat in such a flood of song that I no longer wondered where Mendelssohn learned his melody of the Spring. —Myrtle Reed 3 £ S ■ t IKE a cradle rocking, rocking, Silent, peaceful, to and fro, Like a mother’s sweet looks dropping On the little face below— Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning, Jarless, noiseless, safe and slow, Falls the light of God’s face bending Down and watching us below. [51] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS THE MADONNA TO THE CHILD JESUS, SLEEPING <^^HE palm that grows beside our door is bowed By treadings of the low wind from the south, A restless shadow through the chamber waving; Upon its bough a bird sings in the sun. Suffer this Mother’s kiss, Best thing that earthly is, To glide the music and the glory through, Nor narrow in Thy dream the broad upliftings Of any seraph wing. That tear fell not on Thee, Beloved, yet Thou stirrest in Thy slumber; Thou, stirring not for glad sounds without number Which through the vibratory palm-tree run From summer wind and bird, So quickly hast Thou heard a tear fall silently? Wak’st Thou, O Loving One? —Elizabeth Barrett Browning & 3 & ^^THEN I played the help-tune of the reapers, their wine song, when hand Grasps at hand, eye lights eye in good friendship, and great hearts expand. —Robert Browning [52] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS >JP SONG will outlive all sermons in the memory. —Henry Giles £ 3 ^W\USIC, I yield to thee, -■ ^ S As swimmer to the sea, I give my spirit to the flood of song; Bear me upon thy breast In rapture and at rest. Bathe me in pure delight and make me strong. From strife and struggle bring release, And draw the waves of passion into tides of peace. —Henry van Dyke & & & O HOPIN’S D Flat Waltz is known as “The Little Dog” waltz. It was suggested to him by seeing a little dog chasing its own tail. _ Kobbe ^ U P with me! Up with me into the clouds, For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me! Up with me into the clouds, Singing, singing, With all the heavens about thee ringing, Lift me, guide me, till I find That spot that seems so to thy mind. [53] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS ■WJHAT is the difference between classical and modern \A/ music? Write a volume on it and the difference re¬ mains just this: Classical music is the expression of beauty; modern music the expression of life and truth. -Kobbe ^ •^"^LASTIC, entirely dreamlike in its loveliness, Chopin’s music yields only to the embrace of the poet. It can never be taken by assault. _ Huneker £ «£ ^ ft SHELLEY’S “SKYLARK.” 'J^TIGH on the hills of Song thy song is set, J- t Within the very blue where first thy voice Made this young heart rejoice, And from empyrean height fore’er shall fall Thy silver madrigal, Drenching the world with thine enraptured stream, Thy heavenly dream, Cleansing us as in fires angelical, Sweeping us to the mountain peaks of morn, Where beauty and love were born. —Charles Hanson Towne & & £ UBINSTEIN speaks of Chopin as “the piano bard, the piano rhapsodist, the piano mind, the piano soul.” [ 54 ] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS •^^URING the revival of Italian opera in New York after a season of Wagner, a wag was heard to remark: “Bel Canto has succeeded this winter to ‘Bellow, Can’t I.’ ” ^8 4^8 g J OR the comforting warmth of the sun that my body em- braces, For the cool of the waters that run through the shadowy places, For the balm of the breezes that brush my face with their fingers, For the vesper hymn of the thrush when the twilight lingers, For the long breath, the deep breath, the breath of a heart without care, I will give thanks and adore Thee, God of the open air! —Henry van Dyke & & £ artistic temperament is one that sees more than there is to see, thinks more than there is to think, and feels more than there is to feel, and has an adequate appreciation of the fundamental passions of the human soul. yT^USIC arose with its voluptuous swell, * Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell. —Byron [55] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS O W0RK of God, O perfect day, Whereon must no man work, but play; Wherein it is enough for me Not to be doing, but to be. I hear the wind among the trees Playing celestial symphonies, I see the branches downward bent, Like keys of some great instrument. —Longfellow Q URIOUSLY enough, a piano-forte solo is more effective in a large hall than is a string quartet. Paderewski’s playing perfectly fits Carnegie Hall, but the Kneisel Quartet would produce but little effect there. GARDEN is Earth’s hymn of praise to Heaven Sung every season in some changing tune, Where chords are colors—and where odors sweet Are tender symphonies. _ AUn & <£ HE author of “Home, Sweet Home,” John Howard Payne, was a wanderer all his life. He was called the home¬ less bard of home. [56] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS HUNTING SONG. -^"\RINK of the magical potion Music has mixed with her wine, Full of the madness of motion, Joyful, exultant, divine! Leave all your troubles behind you, Ride where they never can find you, Into the gladness of morn. —Henry van Dyke <£ & S K O-LING, ko-lang, ko-Iingle lingle, Way down the dusky dingle The cows are coming home, And old-time friends And twilight plays, And starry nights And sunny days Come trooping up the misty-ways, When the cows come home. —William Cullen Bryant ^^ATURE is so sympathetic because she is so silent, be- cause she talks in a language we cannot understand but can only guess at; and her silence allows us to hear her eternal meanings which her gossiping would only drown. —Richard Le Gallienne [57] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS B OW sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. —Shakespeare <£ <£ Jt '■^XHE French are compared by Leschetizky to birds of passage, flying lightly up in the clouds, unconscious of what flies below. They are dainty, crisp, clear-cut in their playing, and they phrase well. <£ 3 & |USIC seemed to hover always just above her lips, Not settle. —Robert Browning •V^HERE is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture by the lonely shore, There is society where none intrude By the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not man the less, but nature more From this our intercourse in which I steal From all I may be or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal. —Byron r 5 8] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS O F speckled eggs the birdie sings, And nests among the trees, The sailor sings of ropes and things In ships upon the seas; The children sing in far Japan, The children sing in Spain; The organ with the organ man Is singing in the rain. —Robert Louis Stevenson & & & ./--HERE is no music in a “rest,” but there is the making of music in it. In our whole life melody, the music is broken off here and there by “rests,” and we foolishly think we have come to the end of time. God sends a time of forced leisure—sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and we lament that our part must be missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator. How does the musician read the “rest”? See him beat time with unvarying count and catch up the next note true and steady as if no breaking place had come in between. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him we shall strike the next note full and clear. —John Ruskin & Jt Jt ERFECT strains may float ’neath master hands From instruments defaced. —Elizabeth Barrett Browning [59] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS B EETHOVEN’S title to his Pastoral Symphony reads: “More expression of feeling than painting.” No picture, but something in which the emotions are expressed which men feel in the pleasures of the country. _ Krehbiel & J* £ jTf ND I first played the tune all our sheep know, as one /*■** after one So docile they come to the pen door till folding be done. ******** And one after one seeks its lodging, as star follows star, Into eve and the blue far above us, so blue and so far. —Robert Browning S ^“XHE Americans are spontaneous musicians, accustomed to keep all their faculties in readiness for the unexpected; their perceptions are quick and they possess much technical facility. —Leschetizky ^ a HOPIN is never commonplace. A mazurka or two will add zest to any group of his works on a program. a* USIC brings to the soul a veritable inward culture and is part of the education of a people. [60] —Guizot THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS *^^HE Russians stand first among musicians, in Lesche- tizky’s opinion. United to a prodigious technique, they have passion, dramatic power, elemental force and extraor¬ dinary vitality—turbulent natures, hard to keep within bounds, but making wonderful players when they have the patience to endure to the end. Jt £ s ^^HESE are the sins I fain Would have Thee take away: Malice and cold disdain, Hot anger, sullen hate, Scorn of the lowly, envy of the great, And discontent that casts a shadow grey On all the brightness of the common day. —Henry van Dyke <*£$ ■^W^HERE music dwells, Lingering and wandering on as loth to die, Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality. —Wordsworth £ 3 & * said the practical business man to the poor musician, “do you not quit music and go to making money ?” “Money costs too much,” said the musician. [61] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS S sweet and musical As bright Apollo’s lute strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony. —Shakespeare 3 3 3 I OFTEN wandered forth Among the midnight hills, Listening to silence, as it seemed to be God’s voice, so soft and yet so strong. —.Elizabeth Barrett Browning 3 3 3 rff\Y thoughts I would a garden make In which you may your pleasure take, And find repose and solace when You weary of the ways of men. 3 3 3 B Y the faith that the flowers show when they bloom un¬ bidden, By the calm of the river that flows to a goal that is hidden, By the trust of the tree that clings to its deep foundation, By the courage of wild birds’ wings in the long migration, Wonderful secret of peace that abides in Nature’s breast— Teach me how to confide and to live my life and to rest. —Henry van Dyke [62] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS ^3VEN the discord in one soul May make diviner music roll From out the great harmonious whole. —Adelaide Procter & I N the Bohemian circle to which Schubert belonged he was known as “Canevas,” because whenever some new mem¬ ber joined the group he would ask, invariably, “Kann er vas?” (Can he do anything?) n & & «j* PERSON may have profound knowledge of music as a science and remain untouched by music as an art. —Kobbe HE English are good musicians, good workers, but bad executants—doing by work what the Slav does by in¬ stinct—their heads serving them better than their hearts. & & J* HE piano-forte takes the first place in the hierarchy of instruments. In the circumference of its seven octaves it embraces the whole range of an orchestra. —Liszt [63] THE BOOK OF MUSICAL THOUGHTS B Y insensible degrees the music grew in volume. Songs that had an epic grasp, question, prayer and heart¬ break, all the pain and beauty of the world were part of it, and yet there was something more. —Myrtle Reed £ £ H ND the tunes that mean so much to you alone, Common tunes that make you choke and blow your nose, Vulgar tunes that bring the laugh that brings the groan— I can rip your very heart-strings out with those. — Kipling's “Song of the Banjo” & £ & ‘‘TZL HE Pole, less strong and rugged musically than the Russian, leans more to the poetical side of music. Orig¬ inality is to be found in all that he does, refinement, and ex¬ quisite tenderness and instinctive rhythm. S J* Y=vIS eyes were dim with the dust of the mart, Z With woe of the world he was sick at heart, When lo! He was met by a mighty song; Its surge upbore him above the throng, It left him clean and brave and strong; Never again shall he hate the mart; He yearns to give it the song of his heart. —Katharine H. Austen [64]