On Wednesday evening, May 6, 1896, the annual Spring Meeting of the Society was held in the Galleries of the Art Building.

On this occasion the Society enjoyed an evening of "Music in New England," as described by Mr. Frederic Reddall and interpreted by Miss Ethel A. Chamberlain, soprano; Miss Lillie H. Story, soprano; Mrs. Hamlen-Ruland, contralto; Miss Anna B. Bush, contralto, and The Dudley Buck Quartette under the direction of Mr. John Hyatt Brewer. After an introductory address by the President of the Society, the follow ing programme was rendered:

Ye nations, bow with sacred joy;
Know that the Lord is God alone,
He can create and He destroy.

His sovereign power, without our aid,
Made us of clay and form'd us men;
And when like wandering sheep we stray'd,
He brought us to His fold again.

We are His people, we His care,

Our souls, and all our mortal frame:
What lasting honors shall we rear,
Almighty Maker, to Thy name?

We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs,
High as the heaven our voices raise;
And earth, with her ten thousand tongues,
Shall fill Thy courts with sounding praise.

Wide as the world is Thy command,

Vast as eternity Thy love;

Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand,

When rolling years shall cease to move.

b. "Strike the Cymbal,"

b. Strike the cymbal, roll the tymbal,
Let the trump of triumph sound;
Powerful slinging, headlong bringing
Proud Goliath to the ground.
From the river, rejecting quiver,
Judah's hero takes the stone;
Spread your banners, shout hosannas!
Battle is the Lord's alone.

Solo. See, advances, with songs and dances,
All the band of Israel's daughters;
Catch the sound, ye hills and waters.

God of thunder, rend asunder

All the power Philistine boasts:

What are nations? what their stations?
Israel's God is God of Hosts.

Solo. What are haughty monarchs now?
Lo, before Jehovah bow

Pride of princes, strength of kings
To the dust Jehovah brings;

Praise Him, exulting nations, praise,
Hosanna!

CHOIR OF MIXED VOICES.

Pueitta

"Typical Songs of New England."

3. PRELUDE-Continued.

4. VOCAL INTERLUDES

a. "Over the Mountain Wave,"

MIXED VOICES.

a. Over the mountain wave,

See where they come;
Storm-cloud and wintry wind
Welcome them home.

Yet where the sounding gale

Howls to the sea,

There the song peals along

Deep-toned and free.

Pilgrims and wanderers,

Hither we come;

Where the free dare to be,

This is our home.

England hath sunny dales,

Dearly they bloom;

Scotia hath heather-hills,

Sweet their perfume.

White

Yet through the wilderness
Cheerful we stray,

Native land, native land,

Home far away.

Dim grew the forest path,

Onward they trod;

Firm beat their noble hearts,
Trusting in God.

Gray men and blooming maids,

High rose their song;

Hear it sweep, clear and deep,

Ever along.

Not theirs the glory-wreath

Torn by the blast;
Heavenward their holy steps,
Heavenward they passed.
Green be their mossy graves!
Ours be their fame,

While their song peals along
Ever the same.-George Lunt.

b. "Song of the Landing,"

THE DUDLEY BUCK QUARTETTE.

b. The breaking waves dashed high

On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches toss'd;

And the heavy night hung dark

The hills and waters o'er,

When a band of exiles moored their bark

On the wild New England shore.

Not as the conqueror comes,

They, the true-hearted came;

Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that sings of fame;

Not as the flying come,

In silence and in fear;

They shook the depths of the desert gloom,
With their hymns of lofty cheer.

Amidst the storm they sang,

And the stars heard, and the sea;

And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang

To the anthem of the free!

Browne

The ocean eagle soar'd

From his nest by the white waves foam ;
And the rocking pines of the forest roared—
This was their welcome home.

There were men with hoary hair,

Amidst that pilgrim band;

Why had they come to wither there,

Away from their childhood's land?
There was woman's fearless eye,

Lit by her deep love's truth;

There was manhood's brow serenely high,
And the fiery heart of youth.

What sought they thus afar ?

Bright jewels of the mine?

The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?
They sought a faith's pure shrine!

Aye, call it holy ground,

The soil where first they trod,

They have left unstain'd what there they found-
Freedom to worship God.-Felicia Hemans.

c. "The Old Granite State,"

MIXED VOICES.

(MOUNTAINEER'S FAREWELL.)

I have come from the mountains of the old Granite State,
Where the hills are so lofty, magnificent and great,

I have left kindred spirits in the land of the blest,

When I bade them adieu for the far distant West;

Hutchinson

Oh, thy mountains! Oh, thy valleys! in my own native state. Oh, thy hills and thy valleys are sacred to me,

No matter what in lands of others I may see,

I may view scenes as sunny, as fair and as smooth,

Then I'll think of my cottage that stands in the grove;

Oh, my childhood! Oh, that homestead! in my own native state.

With prayer and psalm they worshipped Thee.
Thou heardst, well pleased, the song, the prayer-

Thy blessing came; and still its power

Shall onward through all ages bear

The memory of that holy hour.

What change! through pathless wilds no more
The fierce and naked savage roams:
Sweet praise, along the cultured shore,
Breaks from ten thousand happy homes.
Laws, freedom, truth, and faith in God
Came with those exiles o'er the waves,
And where their Pilgrim feet have trod
The God they trusted guards their graves.
And here Thy name, O God of love,

Their children's children shall adore,

Till these eternal hills remove,

And spring adorns the earth no more.-Leonard Bacon.

6. PRELUDE-Continued.

7. MODERN COMPOSERS OF NEW ENGLAND.

a. G. W. Chadwick

THE DUDLEY BUCK QUARTETTE.

Softly the moonlight o'er the world is creeping,
Slowly the shadows deepen in their fall,

"Serenade."

Folding the Earth in peace, while thou art sleeping,
Thou my beloved, my angel, my all.

Rest thou from danger, peace her vigil keeping,
Lulled by the strain of this my song of love.
Gently the night thine eyes in slumber steeping,
Guard thee in dreaming the angels above.

b. Mrs. H. H. A. Beach, "Chanson d'Amour" (Song of Love.) Miss ETHEL A. CHAMBERLAIN.

c. Geo. L. Osgood

FREDERIC REDDALL.

"My Little Woman."

ä. Arthur W. Thayer "The Legend of Heinz Von Stein."

THE DUDLEY BUCK QUARTETTE.

Out rode from his wild, dark castle,
The terrible Heinz Von Stein;
He came to the door of a tavern,
And gazed on the swinging sign.

He sat himself down at a table,

And growled for a bottle of wine;
Up came with a flask and a corkscrew
A maiden of beauty divine.

Then seized with a deep love longing,
He uttered, "O, damosel mine,
Suppose you just give a few kisses
To the valorous Ritter Von Stein."