By magic numbers and persuasive sound. CONGREVE, The Mournful Bride. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Twelfth Night. ii, 3. And heaven had wanted one immortal song. Pt. I, 1. 197. Titus Andronicus. iv, 4. The eagle suffers little birds to sing. Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear. Gayly the troubadour touched his guitar. BYRON, Childe Harold. Canto iv, st. 109. BAYLY, Welcome Me Home. Music her soft, assuasive voice applies. POPE, S. Cecilia's Day. And short retirement urges sweet return. Bk. IX, 1. 249. COWPER, The Task. Bk. VI, 1, 1. The stars above us govern our conditions. King Lear. iv, 3, 1. 35. The sound is honey, but the sense is gall. UNKNOWN, Soliman and Perseda. Act IV. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it. Measure for Measure. ii, 2, 1. 37. Deep meaning often lies in childish plays. SCHILLER, Theklo. St. 6. Disburthen his full soul of all its music! COLERIDGE, The Nightingale. 1. 43. He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute. KEATS, Eve of St. Agnes. St. 33. The great theatre for virtue is conscience. CICERO. The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation. BYRON, Don Juan. Canto iv, st. 87. Music is the universal language of mankind. LONGFELLOW, Outre-Mer. Ancient Spanish Ballads. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie. MILTON, Arcades. 1. 68. That strain again! It had a dying fall. Twelfth Night. i, 1. Filled the air with barbarous dissonance. MILTON, Comus. 1. 550. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. Merchant of Venice. v, I. And waste their music on the savage race. YOUNG, Love of Fame. Satire V, 1. 228. My lungs began to crow like chanticleer. As You Like It. ii, 7. These troublesome disguises which we wear. MILTON, Paradise Lost. Bk. IV, 1. 739. Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage. SAMUEL JOHNSON, Vanity of Human Wishes. He mouths a sentence, as curs mouth a bone. CHURCHILL, The Rosciad. Good savage gentlemen, your own kind spare. The vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife. Merchant of Venice. ii, 5. Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear. Venus and Adonis. 1. 145. May my melody not be wanting to the season. THOREAU, Early Spring. Soft is the music that would charm forever. WORDSWORTH, Sonnets. So may the fates preserve the ear you lend. ALEXANDER POPE, Dunciad. iii. I awoke one morning and found myself famous. BYRON, From his Life by Moore. Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark. WORDSWORTH, A Morning Exercise. As stars to thee appear seen in the galaxy. MILTON, Paradise Lost. Bk. VII, 1. 575. Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. King Henry IV. Pt. I, v, 4. Ye little stars! hide your diminished rays. POPE, Moral Essays. Ep. III, 1. 282. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night. MILTON, Paradise Lost. Bk. V, 1. 165. The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. GRAY, Elegy in a Country Churchyard. St. 10. How sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman! MIDDLETON, The Old Law. iv, 2. Life's a long tragedy; this globe the stage. WATTS, Epistle to Mitis. Pt. I, 1. 1. Why should the devil have all the good tunes? ROWLAND HILL, Sermons. Every night he comes with music of all sorts. All's Well that Ends Well. iii, 7, 1. 39. Music is well said to be the speech of angels. CARLYLE, Essays. The Opera. Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song. WALLER, To Mr. Creech. 1. 10. But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain. POPE, Summer. 1. 81. O! she will sing the savageness out of a bear. Othello. iv, 1. 200. So dischord ofte in musick makes the sweeter lay. SPENSER, Faerie Queene. Bk. III, canto ii, st. 15. Odds life! must one swear to the truth of a song? MATTHEW PRIOR, A Better Answer. Above the pitch, out of tune, and off the hinges. RABELAIS, Works. Bk. IV, ch. 19. Music revives the recollections it would appease. DE STAEL, Corinne. Bk. IX, ch. 2. As sweet and musical as bright Apollo's lute. Love's Labour's Lost. iv. 3. Act well your part, there all the honour lies. POPE, Essay on Man. Ep. IV, 1. 185. Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes. GOLDSMITH, The Traveller. 1. 185. She feels no biting pang the while she sings. GIFFORD, Contemplation. Eft-soones they heard a most melodious sound. What harmony is this? My good friends, hark. The Tempest. iii, 3. All who, like him, have writ ill plays before. DRYDEN, Prologue to Rival Ladies. Now the plays are begun I shall have no peace. SHERIDAN, The Critic. i. And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. King Henry VI. Pt. III, iii, 2. Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing. Much Ado about Nothing. iii, 1. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. Julius Cæsar. iii, 2. My voice is ragged; I know I cannot please you. Straining harsh discords and unpleasant sharps. Romeo and Juliet. iii. 5. Chromatic tortures soon shall drive them hence. POPE, The Dunciad. iv. But, gentle heavens, cut short all intermission. Macbeth. iv, 3. For we that live to please must please to live. SAMUEL JOHNSON. Opening Drury Lane Theatre. 1747. Whilst scenes, machines, and empty operas reign. DRYDEN, Opening the New House. 1674. Whilst I sit meditating on that celestial harmony. King Henry VIII. iv, 2. In what key shall a man take you to go in the song? Much Ado About Nothing. i, I. While awaiting the tragedy, let us enjoy the farce. VOLTAIRE. In earnest, does this puppy really pretend to sing? COLLEY CIBBER, The Refusal. iv. Who hears music, feels his solitude peopled at once. BROWNING, Balaustion's Adventure. True; my power with the managers is pretty notorious. SHERIDAN, The Critic. i. The silent organ loudest chants the master's requiem, EMERSON, Dirge. May bring his plain-song and have an hour of hearing. King Henry VIII. i, 3. He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. Twelfth Night. ii, 3. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to sing. As You Like It. ii, 5. I have a little studied physic; but now, I'm all for music. BEN JONSON, Volpone. iii, 2. |