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The soldiers then dispersed, or gathered into little knots of twos and threes, and talked in low voices of the events of the night. "Accomplices!" said one, just close against the window where Bertha and I still lingered. "Liebe Mutter! I'll take my oath he had one!
"The Wanderer," so full of original details, was written in one evening, and when he composed his "Rastlose Liebe," "the paroxysm of inspiration," as Grove remarks, "was so fierce that Schubert never forgot it, but, reticent as he often was, talked of it years afterward."
And sometimes, in the evening, when he left her with his heart big with love so that he could not wait until the morrow, he would write: "Liebe, liebe, liebe, liebe, liebe Grazia...." Their tranquillity lasted for months. They thought it would last forever. The boy seemed to have forgotten them: his attention was distracted by other things.
They towered like glorious snow mountains above the little hills with which my childish imagination was already filled; and how often we played the Trojan War, and aspired to the honor of acting Hector, Achilles, or Ajax! Of Herr Liebe, our teacher, I remember only three things.
In 1912, a loyal Alsatian German writes: "Das Elsass, dies jungstgeborene Kind der deutschen Völkerfamilie, braucht etwas mehr Liebe." Forty years of Prussian rule have not fulfilled the promise of Bismarck.
The Holy Grail is a chalice. It is brought into the temple in solemn procession in a veiled shrine and deposited on a table. Thus, also, the chalice, within its pall, is brought in at the sacrament of the mass and placed on the altar before the celebrant. In the drama boys' voices sing in the invisible heights: Nehmet hin mein Blut Um unserer Liebe willen!
Present my humble warm respects to your aunt Dorothy. I pray to heaven nightly for one of its angels on earth. Kunst, Wissenschaft, Ehre, Liebe. Die Liebe. Quick at the German poets. Frau: Fraulein. I am actually dazzled at the prospect of our future. To be candid, I no longer see to write. Gruss' dich herzlich. From Vienna to you next. Lebe wohl!
"Are you angry at me?" she asked timidly. He could not speak. He put his arms round her and pressed his face into her waving black hair. "MY Hilda," he said in a low voice. And she felt his blood beating very fast, and she understood. "Arbeit und Liebe und Heim," she quoted slowly and softly. The next day Mr. Feuerstein returned from exile.
His solemn and mysterious "Forest Song" could deserve the advertisement of being "drawn from the wood." "Die erste Liebe" shows a contemplative originality in harmony, and ends with a curious dissonance and resolution. "O'er the Woods' Brow" is very strange and interesting, though somewhat abstruse.
"Oh, liebchen," he breathed in tender passion, as she nestled close to him, "ich liebe dich!" It put him very much out of patience to have his eyes bothering him just when he was so anxious to work. What in the world was the matter with them, he wondered, as he directed a couple of students on some work they were helping him with.