The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1912-01-21


is a voice more used to solid words
than to song. But somehow its 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 Iulling of little
child to sleep, is not silenced Of al
criticism? It is one of the things out
side a6ss 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 these same hearts to ten
sweetheart's whisper. Music can
der love and make them tremble at
cleanse the soul for worship or it can
deprave for the vilest orgies. It up
lifts, and it debases; it inspires to the
high, the sweet. the true. and it dead
ems to the gross and low. the vicious
and the heartless. Freedom and love
and fidelity and praise-words that
illumine all language-would be mean
ingless 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 pinlons that defy the rush Of
years md not to be outstripped by
the fasAest pace Of lifes the luminous
spirit az the mother-lore ever hovers
over us, as guiding star till we
reach the harbor safesor 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 UNI
born years.
Such are the little things of life
that never leave us. clinging around
all that is best within US in an un-
ceasing influence to hold us trder to
TIE 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 IRE 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-
leidoseope. We strain and struggle at
this endless game. success our fancies
born of last nights dreams are died OF
age before the sun has set; our loftiest
strivings of today are tomorrow all
forgot, and=we. like careless 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.
It is the spirit voice of all the best
impulses that have been. even from
the beginning. It 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 UNI
changed With all our varying moods
and fieeting fancies. our restless build
ing up and impatient tearing down
we have. as it was in the beginning
has been through all ages and shall be
foreverrnore, the measureless blessing
of mothers love. and the undyine
sweetness of the lullaby.
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