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Updated: June 23, 2025
She could not resist the young man's loveliness and his innumerable fascinations. They began to walk out together in the evening when the dandelions were being kissed by the setting sun. They strolled into the beer gardens and listened to music's power, while moistening their clay. The Bowery Garden, between Canal and Hester streets, was a favorite resort.
The story of the Thracian lyre soothing the horrors of the underworld, and melting to relentment its gloomy king the story of the shepherd-minstrel's harp chasing the shapeless penumbra of looming insanity from the first Hebrew brow crowned in Jehovah's despite the story of the mighty prophet Elisha, fettered to earth by wrath and scorn till, at his own command, the music swelled, and his enfranchised spirit rose on its viewless wings to behold the veiled Future already woven from the tangled skein of the troubled Present the thousand-fold story of music's magic and mystery, stretches back into the forgotten Past, and onward into the imagined Future.
Whether she spoke or whether she sang, her voice was music's self, and he was longing for the next tone; and presently presently Lilian had faded like a phantom before this aurora who was fresh and rosy and dewy, with song and color and light a sad pale phantom wan in a mist of tears. "It is killing me!" she cried.
"I must buy a copy for my wife. Where can I get it?" "You can't get it! It isn't published. Writing music's the darndest job!" Wilson Hymack snorted fiercely. It was plain that the man was pouring out the pent-up emotion of many days.
Then music's tones peeled around the organ, wind instruments, and voices combined until there arose a volume of sound sufficient to shake the very tombstones over the graves. Presently the little ship that hung under the roof moved towards him and Clara.
Then Emilia had to hit his sense of humour by giving the words as they came in the run of the song. "You make me crow, or I croak," she said. "The woman follows the man, and music fits to verse," cried Tracy. "Music's the vine, verse the tree." Emilia meditated.
Because of music's abstractness, the connection between the parts of a musical composition may be loose or subtle, taxing the synthetic powers even of the educated listener; yet some contrast or analogy of feeling must always unite them.
They could not believe that this was the capricious Eleanor of half an hour before. "Whatever she may do in future," thought Grace, as she listened to the last plaintive notes of the "Cavatina," "I'll forgive her for her music's sake. One has to make allowances for people like her. It is the claim of the artistic temperament." "Please play once more," begged Nora. "Then we must go.
First he stroked his hair, then his moustache; his teeth gleamed when he smiled. "The headmaster's wife keeps on asking me to dinner. It's a perfect nuisance. I never get an evening to myself in that place." "But can't you refuse?" "Oh, well, it doesn't do for a man in my position to be unpopular." "Music's Gay Measure," wailed the voices.
Emily, listening with surprise and attention, distinguished the following invocation delivered in the pure and elegant tongue of Tuscany, and accompanied by a few pastoral instruments. O nymph! who loves to float on the green wave, When Neptune sleeps beneath the moon-light hour, Lull'd by the music's melancholy pow'r, O nymph, arise from out thy pearly cave!
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