The Music of Nature; Or, An Attempt to Prove that what is Passionate and Pleasing in the Art of Singing, Speaking, and Performing Upon Musical Instruments, is Derived from the Sounds of the Animated World: With Curious and Interesting Illustrations
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accent admiration ancient appeared attention Bartleman bass bassoon beautiful Beethoven bells birds Braham breath cadenza called CHAPTER character charm chord church clarionet composer composition concert delight Don Giovanni double bass duced effect English execution expression extraordinary feelings fie O fie flute force formed grace greatest Handel harmony Haydn hear heard human voice hundred instance instru introduced Italian language Leicester listen Lord loud Madame manner melody ment mind mouth Mozart musician natural never noise oboe octave opera oratorio orchestra organ passages passions peculiar performance persons piano-forte piece play PortAMENTo produced quartett render Rossini scarcely scene semitone singer singing soft song sound speaking strain string stringed instruments style sublime sweet syllables taste tenor theatre thunder tion tone trumpet tune uttered violin vocal vocalists vowel Westminster Abbey wind instruments words writer
Page 345 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon ; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint: She seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven...
Page 469 - Fountain heads and pathless groves, Places which pale passion loves! Moonlight walks, when all the fowls Are warmly housed save bats and owls! A midnight bell, a parting groan! These are the sounds we feed upon; Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley; Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
Page 307 - And the birds in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly contention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow tree, near to the brow of that primrose hill.
Page 469 - Welcome, folded arms, and fixe'd eyes, A sigh that piercing mortifies, A look that's fasten'd to the ground, A tongue chain'd up without a sound ! Fountain-heads and pathless groves, Places which pale passion loves ! Moonlight walks, when all the fowls Are warmly housed save bats and owls ! A midnight bell, a parting groan...
Page 232 - Of all the occurrences of their life that of laying seems to be the most important; for no sooner has a hen disburdened herself, than she rushes forth with a clamorous kind of joy, which the cock and the rest of his mistresses immediately adopt. The tumult is not confined to the family concerned, but catches from yard to yard, and spreads to every homestead within hearing, till at last the whole village is in an uproar.
Page 469 - HENCE, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly : There's nought in this life sweet, If man were wise to see't, But only melancholy...
Page 333 - But that which did please me beyond anything in the whole world, was the wind-musique when the angel comes down ; which is so sweet that it ravished me, and indeed, in a word, did wrap up my soul so that it made me really sick, just as I have formerly been when in love with my wife...
Page 47 - His voice was both full and clear; his lowest whisper was distinctly heard, his middle tones were sweet, rich, and beautifully varied; when he elevated his voice to its highest pitch, the house was completely filled with the volume of the sound. The effect was awful, except when he wished to cheer or animate; he then had spiritstirring notes, which were perfectly irresistible.
Page 273 - Oft, on a plat of rising ground I hear the far-off curfew sound Over some wide-water'd shore, Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or, if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room...
Page 42 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...