Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1870-02-17
MozaRrs LAST =:

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MOZARTS LAST d
Il vas : festive n;ehs N - Z
Welfgsae Amandas Messst Is
loving friends we're ri - - l
board spread With . lte -
o. OF the occasion, th6Inef II ~ ~
vssla;Sg aay of1ks fose II q 8.
= Tak pIeasnrc Of serssl l. s M No.
and the jaysusness ofshc scene. had dv5|
ven from shc broar5. white brow Of Mo-
xast the shsios shich Of late had rested
there cnhssantly HIS large bright eyes
shot gianccs Of mirthful- are on all sides
as no replied to the sportive saliies, and
and cordial congratulations Of bis gassts,
while an exceedingly sweet and fasdns-
ting smile wrea,hed his finely cut end ex-
prcssive mouth. HIS old youth seemed
TO hase returned to him, and efsen his
eyes rested with loving looks upon tie
fice Of his wife, C,nstanza, with all the
force of his ardent nature
A ser sant enters. "a stranger wish.
es to see the II 'rr Compellmcister."
"Bid hin cn.er." replied Mozart.
The man ustcrs in tall. gaunt f,ure,
clothed entirely in deepest black. With
on, a word he hands to Mozwt q folded
note.
As he reads its c"ntents the counte-
nance ot the great master changes, the
>urny light dies out of rhn blue eyes. the
smile fades from tho chililike mouth, a
strange pallor and look almost of dread
eseeps over his fIca.
farming tn the stranger. he asks from
whom nc cuue hut the question receives
10 reply, savo the ASSURANCE that the
noto tells him all he ne .ds to know.
The l,ughing happy guests are silen.
and fi;lel with apprehension and the
wife striving to speak playfu'iy. asks
"WolfeF., may we not share your m ys.e-
ry?" -.'
He hands her the note. Il raaness
withou. signature, thrt he viii. write q re-
QUEEN, choosing his own price AMI time.
With that strange look o. nal,or AMI f,ar
still upon hi face, he writes an ans xor
promising the requiem
In vain, aftet the wi,h'rawal Of tho
mysterious messenger, did tho gu.s,.- try
to rcsum" their merry songs ani jest, |;
and still The pale faca Of The master Of the
feast hu~h"l every iaug'ing veisc., and
husband nj" and nj Wis a1'e at5hc a;;F to .e.hcr.
Il have sivon SO much Of my time and
talent 10 the world, !: is time that I should
now write for God" said he; but oh !.
Stanzel, I feel tha. l shall write my own
requiem"
A few months later . sad and fearful
company wcro gathered in an upper room
Of Mozart's house. UpoI the bed lay the
worn and attcnuatsd frame Of the eompo-
scr. Sheets OF music lay around him, and
his glorious blue eyes rested upon them
with an expression of mingled joy and
pain. His wife sat close by his pillow,
her hand in his, her loving eve. watching
the face 80 soon to be hidden from her
gaz". His dearest and most familiar
friends clustered together near him, and
at a .iyn from lis hrni they toak the pre-
ciou. sheets upon which he hal traced
the last expressions cf his G,d-.;vcn ge-
nins, upon which he hal written the ho-
Hest and Purest aspirations of his beauti-
full soul. At his request his friends and
pupils had met around his dying bed to
sing for him his last and greatest work.
low and dsweet were the frs. chords.
but borne upon the evening air the swell
OF the rich harmony a,atci up to Hea-
ven.
Angelic were tho strains rs heard upon
the very borders of the spirit land. En-
tranced with the meiody they themselves
WIRE making, the friends sang on, while
Moxirt listened, = smile Of bright happi-
ness playing ever his face aud his large
blue eyes turned heavenward. "King OF
tones" he had been; never more kiagly
than in death
The last strains were sung; the echoes
OF the last auien fingered upoa the air,
when Mosart turned 10 his weaping wife !:
Dear. true wife," he saii. .'ds npt veep;
| lid you from tho first that was wri-
ting nay own reqaicm."
A few more wor,ls were spoken, few
long, last kisses wore gison. and The ex-
quisitely assuned spirit q ID earth to that
world whose hafmonies- is wonld almost
seem, had been revealed 10 ham below.