Dwight's Journal of Music, Объемы 1-2John Sullivan Dwight Oliver Ditson & Company, 1853 |
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Стр. 4
... once in so pure a living form ! All this requires an organ , a regular bulletin of progress ; something to represent the movement , and at the same time help to guide it to the true end . Very confused , crude , heterogeneous is this ...
... once in so pure a living form ! All this requires an organ , a regular bulletin of progress ; something to represent the movement , and at the same time help to guide it to the true end . Very confused , crude , heterogeneous is this ...
Стр. 12
... once innocent and arch , are full of soft light and beauty as a ga- zelle's . The lustrous , massive , jet black hair reminds you of Milton's " smoothing the raven down of darkness till it smiled . " The face , small - featured , pure ...
... once innocent and arch , are full of soft light and beauty as a ga- zelle's . The lustrous , massive , jet black hair reminds you of Milton's " smoothing the raven down of darkness till it smiled . " The face , small - featured , pure ...
Стр. 14
... once these worthy artists , after tasking themselves all winter , more for the benefit of the few determined seekers of good chamber music , than for their own , had the Masonic Temple fairly filled . They played with more than usual ...
... once these worthy artists , after tasking themselves all winter , more for the benefit of the few determined seekers of good chamber music , than for their own , had the Masonic Temple fairly filled . They played with more than usual ...
Стр. 25
... once to me : " Only a Pole could have written this ! " And in fact , all that there is solemn and heart - rending in the fu- neral procession of a whole nation , weeping its own death , resounds in this funeral strain . You feel it ...
... once to me : " Only a Pole could have written this ! " And in fact , all that there is solemn and heart - rending in the fu- neral procession of a whole nation , weeping its own death , resounds in this funeral strain . You feel it ...
Стр. 37
... once so full of abandon and of reserve , transports the heart into the wavering , aimless motion of a boat without sail or rudder . In his playing , CHOPIN painted in a fascinating manner this wavering and heaving , letting the melody ...
... once so full of abandon and of reserve , transports the heart into the wavering , aimless motion of a boat without sail or rudder . In his playing , CHOPIN painted in a fascinating manner this wavering and heaving , letting the melody ...
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115 Washington 13 Tremont Row 21 School 36 School A. N. JOHNSON ACTION PIANO admirable advertisements Alboni artist audience bass beautiful Beethoven Boston Academy BOSTON MUSIC HALL cents choir CHOPIN chorus Church Music composer composition concert DEALER Dwight's Journal E. L. WHITE edition execution feeling friends fugue genius GEORGE JAMES WEBB German Glee grand Handel harmony HAYDN hear heard HENRY BERTINI Hymns Instructions instruments Italian Jenny Lind Journal of Music London LOWELL MASON Madame master Melodeon melody Mendelssohn Mlle Mozart MUSIC BOOKS MUSIC HALL musicians OLIVER DITSON opera Oratorios orchestra organ Organist overture performance pianist Piano Forte pieces played popular published Quartet ROSA GARCIA Rossini Sacred SCHOOL SONGS School St School Street singers singing Society Solfeggios solo Sontag soprano soul sound style sung Symphony taste Teachers tenor theatre tion tone tunes violin vocal voice Washington Street whole York
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Стр. 18 - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Стр. 132 - To BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, And go at last.
Стр. 99 - But never elsewhere in one place I knew So many nightingales ; and far and near, In wood and thicket, over the wide grove, They answer and provoke each other's song, With skirmish and capricious passagings, And murmurs musical and swift jug jug, And one low piping sound more sweet than all — • Stirring the air with such a harmony, That should you close your eyes, you might almost Forget it was not day ! On moon-lit bushes.
Стр. 99 - Glides through the pathways; she knows all their notes, That gentle Maid ! and oft, a moment's space, What time the moon was lost behind a cloud, Hath heard a pause of silence...
Стр. 99 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes; As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Стр. 74 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Стр. 132 - Twas pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth, And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne'er so brave : And after they have shown their pride Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave.
Стр. 74 - Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Стр. 43 - May sun sheds an amber light On new-leaved woods and lawns between ; But she who, with a smile more bright, Welcomed and watched the springing green, Is in her grave, Low in her grave. The fair white blossoms of the wood In groups beside the pathway stand ; But one, the gentle and the good, Who cropped them with a fairer hand, Is in her grave, Low in her grave. Upon the woodland's morning airs The small birds...
Стр. 48 - As fresh as bin the flowers in May, And of my love my roundelay, My merry, merry, merry roundelay, Concludes with Cupid's curse, — They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse ! Ambo simul.