The Musical Review and Musical World, àÅèÁ·Õè 12-1861

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Mason Bros., 1861

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˹éÒ 243 - ... the elaborate and vacillating crudities of thought; at the true purposes seized only at the last moment; — at the innumerable glimpses of idea that arrived not at the maturity of full view; at the fully matured fancies discarded in despair as unmanageable; at the cautious selections and rejections; at the painful erasures and interpolations...
˹éÒ 150 - Beyond this vale of tears There is a life above, Unmeasured by the flight of years; And all that life is love.
˹éÒ 90 - And following slower, in explosion vast, The Thunder raises his tremendous voice. At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven, The tempest growls ; but as it nearer comes, And rolls its awful burden on the wind, The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more The noise astounds : till over head a sheet Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts, And opens wider ; shuts and opens still Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar, Enlarging, deepening, mingling ; peal...
˹éÒ 152 - Many examples may be put of the force of custom, both upon mind and body ; therefore, since custom is the principal magistrate of man's life, let men, by all means, endeavor to obtain good customs. Certainly, custom is most perfect when it beginneth in young years : this we call education, which is, in effect, but an early custom.
˹éÒ 117 - In works of labour or of skill, I would be busy too ; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
˹éÒ 90 - Calmness sits throned on yon unmoving cloud. To him who wanders o'er the upland leas, The blackbird's note comes mellower from the dale ; And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark Warbles his...
˹éÒ 210 - Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep! Mother, dear mother, the years have been long Since I last listened your lullaby song: Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem Womanhood's years have been only a dream. Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, With your light lashes just sweeping my face, Never hereafter to wake or to weep; — Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!
˹éÒ 107 - He dreamed, one night, in the year 1713, that he had made a compact with the Devil, who promised to be at his service on all occasions ; and, during this vision, every thing succeeded according to his mind ; his wishes were anticipated, and his desires always surpassed, by the assistance of his new servant.
˹éÒ 210 - Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you! Many a summer the grass has grown green Blossomed and faded, our faces between; Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain, Long I tonight for your presence again. Come from the silence so long and so deep; Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep.
˹éÒ 210 - Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! I am so weary of toil and of tears — Toil without recompense, tears all in vain — Take them and give me my childhood again!

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