The Ocala banner. (Ocala, Marion County, Fla.) 1883-194?, 1912-02-09
THE uNDYING SWEETNESS OF A
MOTHERS LULLABY

mother is rocking in her arms little
child and singing it to sleep.
Now and then the voice falters lit
tie or loses the key somewhat, for it is
a voice more used to solid words than
to song. But somehow it's uneven
measures spread throughout the twi-
light world light more golden than
that which glows in the western sky.
Music has it's laws, and the lullaby
does not always conform to them.
Yet who, hearing the lulling of little
child to sleep, is not silenced of all
criticism? 1t is one of the things out
side the realm of critic or cynic; it is
of TOO divine kinship for these.
The meaning of music goes deep.
1t is the universal language Of the
soul. Where speech fails, song is only
beginning. Music can make mems
hearts as steel in the face of battle,
when thousands are to be stricken
down and trampled into the earth; or
it can melt the same hearts to tender
love and make them tremble at a
sweetheart's whisper. Music can
cleanse the soul for worship, or it can
deprave for the vilest orgies. 1t up
lifts, and it debases; it inspires to
the high, the sweet, the true, and it
deadens to the gross and low, the vi
cious and the heartless. Freedom
and love and fidelity and praise
words that illumine all language
would be meaningless and dead but
for the spirit instilled into them by
song.
No other music sinks so deep into
the soul as the lullaby; no other sound
so seems to sway the heart of man.
On pinions that defy the rush of years
and not to be outstripped by the fast
est pace of life, the luminous spirit of
the mother-love ever hovers over us,
as a guiding star, till we reach the
harbor safe, or else are wrecked upon
the rocks.
Sacred among the memories of the
years is the song which one day was
our inspiration to sweetest dreams.
It matters not how family that song
echoes-how distance dims that in
spiration-there is enough to fill our
hearts with higher hopes for yet I'M
born years.
Such are the little things of life that
never leave us, clinging around all
that is best within us in an unceasing
influence to hold us truer to the path
of right
We little know, dreaming through
the sun-kissed stretches of childhood,
how this simple song and that gentle
word shall some day be our most
trusted guides through wilderness and
storm. We little think when those
dear songs are sung how their soft
strains shall sweetly Tilt through the
doubt and gloom of many a dreary
day.
The pageants of the world pass
quickly by. The glories of the age
are born and fade again to nothing
ness. Each mans view of life is as a
glance through a fast-revolving ka-
leidoscope. We strain and struggle at
this endless game, success, our fan
cies born of last nights dreams are
died of age before the sun has set:
our loftiest strivings of today are to-
morrow all forgot; and we, like care
less children, soon are stepped in
some new schemes of power or gain
or pleasure.
How is it, then, that through all the
changing years we still hold some
ideals unchanged
The mother-song floating through
the twilight answers.
1t is the spirit voice of all the best
impulses that have been, even from
the beginning. 1t blest the breeze
that scented Eden's grove, and ever
since its blessing has been borne into
every nook and corner of the habited
world
For among our changes manifold
and great, one thing remains unchang-
ed. With all our varying moods and
fieeting fancies, our restless building
up and impatient tearing down, we
nave, as it was in the beginning, has
been through all ages and shall be for
eVermore, the measureless blessing of
mothers love. and the undying
sweetness of the lullaby.-Pensacola
Journal.