Morning herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1837-1840, 1839-04-25


| The splendid celebration Of the Requiem Of Mo-
zart which takes place tomorrow at st. Peters
Church. in Barclay street, is beginning to attract a
great deal of attention in town We learn that the
| number of instruments and vsices engaged the
occasion, embracing all the first artists Of this city
will be greater and more unique than ever were
brought together in this country In addition to what
we said yesterday of the circumstances attending
the composition of this Requiem, annex the fol-
Lowing exquisite passage
MozARr.-* The composer threw him
self back his couch, faint and exhausted. His
countenance was pale and emaciated, yet there was
strange fire in his eye, and the light of joy his
brow, that told of success His task was finished,
and the melody, even to his exquisite sensbility,
was perfect II had occupied him for weeks; and
though his form wasting by disease, yet his sp
rt seemed to acquire vigor, and already claim
kindred with Immortality; for, oft the sound OF
his owa composition stole his ear, il bore an un-
earthly sweetness, that was, to him. too truly warn
ing Of his future and fast coming doom. Now II was
finished; and for the first time, for many weeks, he
sank into quiet and refreshing slumber The apart
ment in which he lay large and lighted by a
window, in small recess, that opened to the east;
| near it his couch placed; table, for writing,
stood at his feet and just before him. his favorite,
inseparabls piano The window was shaded by a
curtain Of crimson damask, and, as the sun (Which
had scarcely attained its merdan) stole through it.,
there a rich glow cast upon every object. One
beam fell upon the head of the composer, and then
Of life be- bright and glorious but, even so shall it
vanish and pass away, though shining in noontide
splendor." slight noise in the apartment awoke
him, when, turning towards fair young girl who en-
tered, Emile, my daughter said he come near
me-my task is over-the requiem is finished My
requiem" he added, and sigh escaped him, as pre-
through his mind and the idea, how soon he must
leave it all, seemed, for moment, too hard to en-
dure. cob! say not so, my father, said the girl.
interruptng him. as tears rushed to her eyes; s1you
he hot mol hett for ye no
cheek has glow upon it; do let bring you some
thing refreshing for you have had nothing this morn
ing and ana sure we will nurse you well again" :
Do not deceive yourself, my love, said he; this
wasted form never can be restored by human aid /;
from Heavens mercy, alone, can hope for succor;
and it will be granted, my Emile in the time of my
utmost need; yes. in the hour Of death will claim
His help who is always ready to aid those who trust
in Him. and soon. very soon, must this mortal frame
be laid in its quiet sleeping place, and this restless
soul return to Him who gave It,. The tender glri
stood in pallid, though mute distress; not a sigh
not tear escaped her. The idea of death broke so
suddenly on her mind, that it checked every mode
Of uteraRce and she gazed upon his countenance as
Death at any period Of life, wears awful aspect,
but more so than to the youthful heart, whose
every step has been that of health and oy and whose
bounding pulse yet swayed by hope, has never been
chilled by the sorrows or distracted by the doubts
and fears, that hang our earthly exlstence.-
Thus il was with Emile; united by the tenderest
sympathy to her father, and living, as It were, IN
world of music, no wonder that she beheld death
with error the destroyer OF her allof happiness
The dying father raised himself on his couch-"fou
spoke of refrc shment, my daughter; 1t can still be
afforded to ainting soul take these notes. the last
that shall pen and sit down to the instrument
Sing with them the hymn beloved by your mother,
and let me more hear those tones which have
been my delight my passion, since my earliest re-
membrance." Emile did as she was desired, and II
seemed as if she sought relief from her own
thoughts for after running over few chords OF the
piano, she commenced, in the sweetest voice, the
following lnes:-
Spirit. Thy labor is DER,
Thy term Of probation is rum
Thy steps are now bound for the untrodden shore,
And the race Of immortal begun
I "Spirit look not on the strife
Or the pleasures Of earth with regret
Pause not on the threshold Of limtess life,
To moxra for thy day that IS set
Spirit no letters bind,
No wicked have power to moest: -.
There the weary like hee and the wretched shall find
haven, mansion ofres
Spirit how bright is the road
For which thou art on the wing
Thy home il will be, with thy Saviour and God,
Their loud haelujahs to sing"
A, she concluded the last stanzas, she dwet, for
few moments, on the low, melancholy notes Of the
piece and then waited in silence for the mild voice
of her fathers praises. He spoke not-and, with
something like surprise, she turned towards him; ne
was laid back upon the sofa his face shaded In part
with his hand and his form reposed, if in sumber
Starting with fear, Emile sprang toward him, and
seized his hand; but the touch paralyzed her Tor
she sunk senseless by his side. He was gone! With
the sounds Of the sweetest melody composed by
human thought, his soul had winged ITS flight TO re
gions of eternal blss.-Courf Journal.