Jeffersonian Republican. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1840-1853, 1841-01-22

one of the most celebrated of his compositions
Many fancltul tales have been written by the
imaginative Germans, founded on this crcum-
stance. The following sketch is from the last
number Of the Musical Magazine
MoZART's LAST MOMENTS.
The composer threw himself back on his
couch, faint and exhausted His countenance
was pale and emaciated, yet there was strange
fire IN his eye, and the light JOY on his brow,
that told ofsuccess. His task was finished, and
J the melody, even TO his exquisite sensibility,
was perfect. 1t had occupied him for weeks;
and though his form was wasting by disease,
yet the spirit seemed to acquire more vigour,
and already claimed kindred to immortalitv---for
oft as the sound of his own composition stole
on his ear, it bore an unearthly sweetness that
was to him, too truly warning of his future
and fast coming doom. Now it was finished
and for the first time for many weeks, he sunk
into quiet and refreshing slumber The apart
ment in which he lay, was large and we'll lighted
by window, In a small recess, that opened to
the east; near it his couch was placed, table
for writing at his feet, and just before him his
favourite inseparable piano. The window was
shaded by curtain of crimson damask; and
the sun, which had scarcely attained its merid-
ian, stole through it, there was a rich glow cast
upon every object. One beam fell upon the
head of the composer, and then passed, appa-
rently 10 say Like this shall your day of life
be; bright and glorious; but even so shall it van
ish and pass away, though shining in noon-tide
spendour." A slight noise In the apartment
awoke him, when turning towards a fair young
girl who entered, Emile, my daughter" said
he, ''come near me-ny task is over-the re-
QUEEN is finished. My requiem" he added,
and sigh escaped him, as present !ame and
future glory passed in vivid succession through
his mind, and the idea, how soon he must leave
it, all seemed, for moment, too hard to endure
''Oh! say not so, my father" said the girl, inter-
rupllng him, as tears stood in her ewes, svou
must be better-you look better. for even now
your cheek has glow upon it; do let me bring
you something refreshing, for you have had
nothing this morning, and | am sure we will
nurse you well again" "Do not deceive YOUR
self, my love-" said he, ''this wasted form can
never be restored by human aid From heav-
ems mercy, alone, can hope for succour; and
ii will be granted, Emile, in the time of nv Ut
y L
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 It's quiet sleep
ing place, and its restless soul return to Him
who gave it," The tender girl stood in pallid,
though mute disness; not sigh, not tear es-
capped her. The idea of death broke so sud- |
1enly on her mind, that 1t checked every mode |
Of utterance, and she gazed upon his counte-
nance as in dream.
Death, at any period of life, wears an awful |
aspect; but never more SO than to the youthful |
heart, whose every step has been that of health |
and JOY, and whose bounding pulse. yet sway
ed by hope, had never been chilled by the sor- /
rows, or distracted by the doubts and fears that
hang over our earthly existence Thus 1t was
with Emile; united by the tenderest sympathy
10 her father, and living, as it were, in world
Of music, no wonder that she beheld death with |
terror; as the destroyer of her all; of happiness
The dying father raised himself on his couch
- You spoke of refreshment, ny daughter; it can
still be afforded my fanting soul. Take these
notes, the last that shall ever pen, and sit |
down to the instrument. Sing with them the |
hymn so beloved by your mother, and let me
once more hear those tones which have been
ny delight, my passion, since my earliest re-
nembrance." Emile did as she was desired, |
and il seemed as if she sought relicffrom her
own thoughts; for after running over few
chords Of the piano, she commenced, in the
sweetest voice, the following lines:
"Spirit! thy labour is DER,
Thy term of probation is run,
Thy steps are now bound for the untrodden shore,
And the race Of immortals begun
Spirit. look not on the strife
Or the pleasures Of earth with regret
Pause not on the threshold of lmitess life,
To mourn for the day that is set.
Spirit! no fetters can bind
No wicked have power to molest;
There the weary, like thee-the wretched shall find
A haven, a mansion Of rest
Spirit! how bright is the road
For which thou art now on the wing
Thy home it will be, with thy Saviour and God,
There loud hallelujahs to sing"
As che ad III L..