The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1856-04-15
Written for The STANDARD.
THE CHARMS OF MUSIC.
By IDA sr. CLARE


4e .t.
Where ever we behold, Ebove or around
us, the beauties Of Mature, sand the creations
of Natures God, there you win find Music
interviewer with Divine projections. Ami
hilate it. and who could endure the solemn
stllncssi We could not ossa bld azieu 10
the mournful wailings of the wind as it
sweeps through the crisp and fallen leaves Of
autumn, reminding us Of funeral dirge; or
the gentle zephyrs Of calm bright Summer
day, as they fan your brow with such modest
beauty. Even here is melody, although SO
noisclessly they come and GO like the breath
of the escraphic host, waiting odor from Para
disc.
"Soft as the slumbers Of saint forgiven
And mild asopcning CLEANS of promised Heaven
The foaming cataract as it dashes over
rocks into the abyss below, the little rivulet,
with its fowry banks, winding along quietly
through forest and meadow; the deep toned
thunder as peal after peal dies away in the
distant heavens, all have charms, sand the
man that hath not music in his soul, and is
not moved by the concord of sweet sounds,
is fit for treason, stratagems, and spoils"-
Oh, take away the melodious strains that
greet our car where'er we stray, and earth
would not be earth Let music cease within
the courts of bliss, and heaven would be no
more. Can you fancy the vail drawn aside
and you gazing into the immortal bowers of
Eden?
Behold the chords Of the golden harps
have all been snapped asunder; and even
the waters Of the rivers of Life have ceased
to flow. All is silent as the visions of death.
Snowy wings arc used to wipe the tears that
flow from angels eyes, and Heaven has ceased
to be. Take the little birds with their
plumes Of every color, and their untiring ex-
ertions to fill the air with their concordant
notes, and how dreary would be our earth.
But the human voice is still sweeter and
moro heavenly. 1t possesses charms that can
not fail to awaken tender emotions even in
world. Js there one who has left his fathers
foof who has breathed farewell to those who
were bound to him by the most sacred ties
who has launched his bark on the sea Of life,
and sits alone within itl Has he when rock
ing over the glistcning waves, caught the echo
of voice in the distance as it breathed
forth,
enid pleasures and palaces tho we may roam,
| De; ;tava M
And has he sat unmovcd as a marble statue
No, ''the velvet echo Of anxious steps, the
soft pressure of silken fingers, the silver tones
of glad and happy voices, fit through the
portals of the memory, and create in the
heart melody that chimes with sweet ca
denccs in the strange music of the breeze that
plays about the brow at nightfall, when fair.
les and unseen visitants hold their jubilies."
Where is the true hearted countryman ot
Bruce, who can sit unmoved and hear repeat
ed
sScots wha ha wi Wallace bled."
On the pinons of imagination he soar
back, and is again roaming in the highland
|
so long as the star spangled banner floats owe
an unbroken union, will the sons of freedom
chant with patriotic pride, "Hail Columbia.
And France still clings to her "Marseille
hymn" Oh Music, have felt thy hol.
soothing influence in the hour Of affliction
and have seen the dimpled smiles thou has
placed on cherub faces in happy days.
have sung for Others, lot Others sing for me
when the silver chord is loosed and the gold
en- bowl is broken. Oh yes,
Sing when pass thro' the valley of death,
When my soul leaves its casket of clay;
Sing till reaches the fountain Of Life,
: And basks in eternal day.
Sing when the last duttering pulse shall cease
D And to my freed spirit is given
: Agolden harp to attune with the saints,
6 To angelic strains in Heaven,
IIlsdale College, April, 1856.