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Updated: May 28, 2025
Schubert's song had gone as it had come, without conscious effort on his part; but it had left a substitute, for the Tenor, as he lingered over his morning's work, found himself continually murmuring whole phrases of a chant which he had heard once upon a time when he was staying in an old town in France, It was the Litany of the Blessed Virgin sung at Benediction by some unseen singer with a wonderfully sympathetic mezzo-soprano voice.
Before returning to America, Lachmund was for a time connected with the opera at Cologne. The Boston Colony. To the composer potentially a writer of grand operas, but barred out by the absolute lack of opening here, the dramatic ballad should offer an attractive form. Such works as Schubert's "Erl-King" show what can be done. Henry Holden Huss has made some interesting experiments, and Fred.
Among the beautiful figures, whom the critical historian tries to drive back into that limbo, where an imaginary Homer flirts with a fabulous Pocahontas, we are asked to place the alleged one love of Schubert's life. Few composers have been so overweighted with poverty or so gifted with loneliness as Franz Schubert. His joy was spasmodic and short, but his sorrow was persistent and deep.
When these ceased and finally died away, the great organ and a band of brass instruments took up Schubert's funeral march, booming sonorously; and changed to Beethoven's funeral march with a clash of cymbals in the orchestral accompaniment. A third march being required, owing to the time needed by the procession to reach the Abbey, "Marche Solennelle" was played.
He had long yellowish hair and kept tossing his head to fling it back on to his shoulders, instead of keeping it short as Jones and I keep ours. Then came Schubert's "Erl Konig," which, I daresay, is very fine but with which I have absolutely nothing in common.
Longfellow, on passing our house, told aunty that he was coming in the afternoon, to speak to me; aunty was worried and so was I, but when he came I happened to be singing Schubert's "Dein ist mein Herz," one of aunty's songs, and he said, "Go on. Please don't stop."
Schubert's exterior was anything but that of the ideal lover. Rude, unshapely features, thick nose, coarse, protruding mouth, and a shambling, awkward figure, were redeemed only by eyes of uncommon splendor and depth, aflame with the unmistakable light of the soul. The inexperienced maiden hardly understood the devotion of the artist, which found expression in a thousand ways peculiar to himself.
It was the music, a hackneyed theme of Schubert's played heavily, that seemed to arouse the composite emotion of anger and hatred, yet of sustained attraction and wild regret she had felt before, but never so poignantly as now. And she lingered, perversely resolved to steep herself in the agony. "Who lives here" Rolfe asked. "Mr. Ditmar," she answered. "The agent of the Chippering Mill?"
As the shadows deepen, he is wont to carry his Victor out to the stone wall and let the music from Brahms's "Cradle Song" or Schubert's "Serenade" float to us as we sit on the veranda, hushed into humble gratitude for our share in this quiet life. To see Mr.
And in his later years, his servant always filled two of his pockets with coin, one with copper, and one with silver; and the man used to say that when his master came home at night, the copper mine was usually untouched, but the silver deposit exhausted. It was in Lyons that the comtesse began her literary career, by a French translation of Schubert's "Erl-König."
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