Ah, welcome that I know not the mere language of the earthly words in which the melody is embodied as all words are mean before the language of true music. Now, firm and unbroken, it spreads like an ocean around us.
Pure and vast, that voice now rises, as on clouds, to the heaven where it claims audience. The perfect singing voice-deepest of all to me the lesson-trial and test of all.) (So firm-so liquid-soft-again that tremulous, manly timbre! Pouring in floods of melody in tones so pensive sweet and strong, The clear electric bass and baritone of the world,Ī transparent bass shuddering lusciously under and through the universe, (As perfume’s, color’s, sunlight’s correlation.) How through those strains distill’d-how the rapt ears, the soul of me,Ībsorbing freedom’s and love’s and faith’s unloos’d cantabile, The orbed parting of whose mouth shall lift over my head the sluices of all the delight yet discovered for our race. Vast, pure tenor, ascending with power and health, large and fresh as the creation-identity of the creative power itself, Rising through the universe, pouring and filling me full, She used to sweep me away as with whirlwinds. In the fresh breeze and the chiaroscuro of the night, the air was borne by a rich, liquid-full contralto, firm and unhurried, with long pauses. She convulsed me like the climax of my love-grip. The lone singer, in voice surpassing all, sang forth wonderful, causing tears, The trained soprano-a soprano that lithely overleaps the stars,Īt intervals sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense waves,įirst preluding with the instrument a low and musical prelude, I could have listened to their singing all night. What a strange charm there is in the human voice-so far ahead of instruments, to produce certain effects, I heard what the singers were singing so long, The great, overwhelming, touching human voice-its throbbing, flowing, pulsing qualities. What an indescribable volume of delight the recesses of the soul can bear from the sound of the honied perfection of the human voice, The measureless sweet vocalists of ages, singing all time, minding no time, The chorus I hear and am elated, it is a grand opera, Now I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice,Īll songs of current lands come sounding round me. The lowing cattle, bleating sheep, the crowing cock at dawn. The fiddler in the tavern, the glee, the long-strung sailor-song, The psalm in the country church or mid the clustering trees, the open air camp-meeting, The rain, the growing corn, the breeze among the long-leav’d corn,
O tender voices, memory’s loving voices,) (Last miracle of all, O dearest mother’s, sister’s, voices,
LIQUID NOTES TORRENT HOW TO
Thou knowest soul how to me all sounds became music. Music, the combiner, nothing more spiritual, nothing more sensuous, a god, yet completely human, advances, prevails, holds highest place supplying in certain wants and quarters what nothing else could supply. O soul, all senses, shows, and objects lead to thee,īut now it seems to me sound leads o’er all the rest.
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