So deem'd the man who fashion'd for the sense THE SAME. WHAT awful perspective! while from our sight Whoe'er ye be, that thus, yourselves unseen, The notes luxuriate, every stone is kiss'd CONTINUED. THEY dreamt not of a perishable home ON THE POWER OF SOUND. ARGUMENT. The Ear addressed, as occupied by a spiritual functionary, in communion with sounds, individual, or combined in studied harmony. - -Sources and effects of those sounds.-The power of music, whence proceeding, exemplified in the idiot. Origin of music, and its effect in early ages. The mind recalled to sounds acting casually and severally. - Wish uttered that these could be united into a scheme or system for moral interests and intellectual contemplation. - The Pythagorean theory of numbers and music, with their supposed power over the motions of the universe-imaginations consonant with such a theory.-Wish expressed, realised in some degree, by the representation of all sounds under the form of thanksgiving to the Creator. The destruction of earth and the planetary system the survival of audible harmony, and its support in the Divine Nature, as re. vealed in Holy Writ. THY functions are ethereal, As if within thee dwelt a glancing mind, Strict passage, through which sighs are brought, And shrieks, that revel in abuse Of shivering flesh; and warbled air, Hosannas pealing down the long-drawn aisle, The headlong streams and fountains Serve Thee, invisible Spirit, with untirèd powers; That bleat, how tender! of the dam Calling a straggler to her side. Shout, cuckoo!-let the vernal soul Go with thee to the frozen zone; Toll from thy loftiest perch, lone bell-bird, toll! 1 I am not quite clear as to the meaning of this. "The pulse that beats devoutly, in life's last retreats," may mean the innermost feelings of the heart, feelings seated there where life is supposed to hold out longest; or it may mean the devout feelings of a "good and faithful servant" in his dying moments. If the latter, then "requiems answer'd by the pulse, &c., must be taken in the sense of “requiems speaking in accordance with the pulse," &c. Mercy from her twilight throne Listening to nun's faint throb of holy fear, Ye Voices, and ye Shadows And Images of voice, to hound and horn And milder echoes from their cells Blest be the song that brightens The blind man's gloom, exalts the veteran's mirth For the tired slave, Song lifts the languid oar, They move; but soon th' appointed way And to their hope the distant shrine Glisten with a livelier ray: Nor friendless he, the prisoner of the mine, Who from the well-spring of his own clear breast Can draw, and sing his griefs to rest. When civic renovation Dawns on a kingdom, and for needful haste Who, from a martial pageant, spreads Thrilling th' unweapon'd crowd with plumeless heads?- Peaceful striving, gentle play Of timid hope and innocent desire Shot from the dancing Graces, as they move Fann'd by the plausive wings of Love. How oft along thy mazes, Regent of sound, have dangerous Passions trod! O Thou, through whom the temple rings with praises, Betray not by the cozenage of sense Thy votaries, wooingly resign'd To a voluptuous influence That taints the purer, better mind; But lead sick Fancy to a harp That hath in noble tasks been tried; And, if the virtuous feel a pang too sharp, Th' uplifted arm of Suicide; And let some mood of thine in firm array As Conscience, to the centre Of being, smites with irresistible pain, So shall a solemn cadence, if it enter The mouldy vaults of the dull idiot's brain, Transmute him to a wretch from quiet hurl'd, Convulsed as by a jarring din; And then aghast, as at the world Of reason partially let in By concords winding with a sway Terrible for sense and soul; Or, awed, he weeps, struggling to quell dismay. Point not these mysteries to an Art Lodged above the starry pole; Pure modulations flowing from the heart Of divine Love, where Wisdom, Beauty, Truth With Order dwell, in endless youth? 2 The allusion is to Sappho, the famous Greek poetess, whom Wordsworth else where speaks of as "The Lesbian Maid." Her airs are called Lydian with reference to the ancient Greek modes or keys, which were derived from Lydia, and in which the music was of a pathetic and melting character. See page 154, note 4. Oblivion may not cover All treasures hoarded by the miser, Time. And voice and shell drew forth a tear The GIFT to king Amphion That wall'd a city with its melody Was for belief no dream:- thy skill, Arion! Could humanise the creatures of the sea, Where men were monsters." A last grace he craves, Leave for one chant; - the dulcet sound The ancient myths of Orpheus, Amphion, and Arion are here justly regarded as showing that the old Greek sensibility to music was much more lively and responsive than that of any modern people. Classical poetry and fable were fond of such daring and hyperbolical representations of the power of music, because they felt sure of an answering sympathy in the popular feeling; whereas, to our duller sensibilities, those representations appear so extravagant as to be quite ludicrous. And so Hume, in his essay Of Eloquence, remarks of ancient orators, that "their eloquence was infinitely more sublime than that which modern orators aspire to;" though he attributes this to higher powers of expression and delivery in the ancient speakers: and he illustrates by quoting passages from Demosthenes and Cicero which would be scouted by a modern audience as "wholly monstrous and gigantic." 4 "The upper arch" is the heavens or the sky, whose direfullest portents and prodigies were thought to be quelled by lyrical and musical incantations. 5 The fable of Orpheus is, I presume, too well known to need any statement of its contents here. It was in his handling that "Hell to the lyre bow'd low," yielding up his beloved Eurydice to the divine compulsion of his music.—Amphion was King of the Grecian Thebes: his harp and voice so affected the stones that they could not choose but march to their places, and so girdled the city with a wall. 6 Arion was a famous Greek bard and player on the harp. The story is, that he went to Sicily to take part in a musical contest; and, having won the prize, was going home to Corinth by sea, laden with presents, when the rude sailors coveted his wealth and were bent on murdering him. After trying in vain to break their purpose, he at last got leave to play once more on the harp: so, putting on festal atire, and standing in the prow of the ship, he invoked the gods in inspired strains, and then threw himself into the sea. But a flock of song-loving dolphins had gath ered round; and now one of them took the bard on its back, and carried him to Tænarus, from whence he returned safe to Corinth. |