Music

"And when the music goes te-toot, The monkey acts so funny That we all hurry up and scoot To get some monkey-money. M-double-unk for the monkey, M-double-an for the man; M-double unky, hunky monkey, Hunkey monkey-man. Ever since the world began Children danced and children ran When they heard the monkey-man, The m-double-unky man."

"Water and air He for the Tenor chose, Earth made the Base, the Treble Flame arose, To th' active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn's string a touch more soft and grave. The motions strait, and round, and swift, and slow, And short and long, were mixt and woven so, Did in such artful Figures smoothly fall, As made this decent measur'd Dance of all. And this is Musick."

"With melting airs, or martial, brisk, or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies."

"The soft complaining flute In dying notes discovers The woes of hopeless lovers, Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute."

"Music sweeps by me as a messenger Carrying a message that is not for me."

"'Tis God gives skill, But not without men's hands: He could not make Antonio Stradivari's violins Without Antonio."

"The silent organ loudest chants The master's requiem."

"Our 'prentice, Tom, may now refuse To wipe his scoundrel master's shoes; For now he's free to sing and play Over the hills and far away."

"But Bellenden we needs must praise, Who as down the stairs she jumps Sings o'er the hill and far away, Despising doleful dumps."

"Tom he was a piper's son, He learned to play when he was young; But all the tune that he could play Was "Over the hills and far away.""

"When I was young and had no sense I bought a fiddle for eighteen pence, And all the tunes that I could play Was, "Over the Hills and Far Away.""

"Blasen ist nicht flöten, ihr müsst die Finger bewegen."

"Jack Whaley had a cow, And he had nought to feed her; He took his pipe and played a tune, And bid the cow consider."

"Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise."

"He stood beside a cottage lone, And listened to a lute, One summer's eve, when the breeze was gone, And the nightingale was mute."

"Why should the devil have all the good tunes?"

"Music was a thing of the soul—a rose-lipped shell that murmured of the eternal sea—a strange bird singing the songs of another shore."

"From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathéd horn."

"Citharœdus Ridetur chorda qui semper oberrat eadem."

"Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells! Ply all your changes, all your swells, Play uppe "The Brides of Enderby.""

"When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy."

"Ere music's golden tongue Flattered to tears this aged man and poor."

"The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide."

"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone."

"I even think that, sentimentally, I am disposed to harmony. But organically I am incapable of a tune."

"A velvet flute-note fell down pleasantly, Upon the bosom of that harmony, And sailed and sailed incessantly, As if a petal from a wild-rose blown Had fluttered down upon that pool of tone, And boatwise dropped o' the convex side And floated down the glassy tide And clarified and glorified The solemn spaces where the shadows bide. From the warm concave of that fluted note Somewhat, half song, half odour forth did float As if a rose might somehow be a throat."

"Music is in all growing things; And underneath the silky wings Of smallest insects there is stirred A pulse of air that must be heard; Earth's silence lives, and throbs, and sings."

"Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels."

"Yea, music is the Prophet's art Among the gifts that God hath sent, One of the most magnificent!"

"When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music."

"He is dead, the sweet musician! * * * * He has moved a little nearer To the Master of all music."

"Music is the universal language of mankind."

"Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies."

"Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie."

"Who shall silence all the airs and madrigals that whisper softness in chambers?"

"Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?"

"Ring out ye crystal spheres! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time; And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow, And with your ninefold harmony, Make up full consort to the angelic symphony."

"There let the pealing organ blow, To the full voiced quire below, In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heaven before mine eyes."

"Untwisting all the chains that tie the hidden soul of harmony."

"As in an organ from one blast of wind To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes."

"And in their motions harmony divine So smoothes her charming tones, that God's own ear Listens delighted."

"Mettez, pour me jouer, vos flûtes mieux d'accord."

"La musique celeste."

"If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own."

"This must be music," said he, "of the spears, For I am cursed if each note of it doesn't run through one!"

"The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, As if that soul were fled."

"If thou would'st have me sing and play As once I play'd and sung, First take this time-worn lute away, And bring one freshly strung."

"And music too—dear music! that can touch Beyond all else the soul that loves it much— Now heard far off, so far as but to seem Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream."

"'Tis believ'd that this harp which I wake now for thee Was a siren of old who sung under the sea."

"She played upon her music-box a fancy air by chance, And straightway all her polka-dots began a lively dance."