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Updated: July 23, 2025
Just these three notes abound in the mystic first "prelude," and they are the core of the great swinging tune of the Andante maestoso, the beginning and main pulse of the unknown song. For death and birth, the two portals, are like elements. Tennyson's poem. The storm that blasts the romance begins with the same fateful phrase.
This music is exquisite, wondrously exquisite, and it is followed by a maestoso e solenne movement of unsurpassable majesty. I have never read anything more purely what music should be for grandeur. And it praises our ain countree! It might well be taken up by some of our countless vocal societies to give a much needed respite to Händel's threadbare "Messiah."
To Dalgas apply the words of the seer with which he himself characterized the Society that was the child of his heart and brain: "The good men are those who plant and water," for they add to the happiness of mankind. Maestoso. King Christian stood by loft-y mast In mist and smoke; His sword was ham-mer-ing so fast, Thro' Goth-ic helm and brain it passed; Then sank each hos-tile hulk and mast.
In the Finale the main legend of the symphony is transformed and transfigured in a new, serener mood, and is brought to a full melodic bloom. Indeed, here is the idealization of the original motto. Andante maestoso it begins in the tonic major. When the theme ceases, the brass blow the rhythm on a monotone, midst an ascending obligato of strings. In answer comes a new phrase of chorale.
It consists in this: An external or internal impression, any occurrence whatever, even a metaphysical idea, undergoes change of a certain kind, which the following examples will make better understood than any amount of commentary. Beethoven said of Klopstock's Messiah, "always maestoso, written in D flat major."
At the close of the first piece, the 'Adagio Maestoso, there was one universal shout of applause, which afforded an infinite relief to a most enthusiastic house that had held its breath for fifteen minutes. Ole Bull came before the curtain and bowed, with his hand upon his heart.
"Its merit must lie in its incompleteness, for that just urges us on to something beyond. The success on which we rest, is no better than a failure. Some day, I shall begin my ideal symphony; but, by the time I have reached my final Maestoso, I shall have learned that my ideal has moved on again beyond my reach."
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