Quotes
Quotes about Music
O Music! sphere-descended maid,
Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid!
They would talk of nothing but high life, and high-lived company, with other fashionable topics, such as pictures, taste, Shakespeare, and the musical glasses.
Where gripinge grefes the hart wounde,
And dolefulle dumps the mynde oppresse,
There music with her silver sound
With spede is wont to send redresse.
There is in souls a sympathy with sounds;
And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased
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.
How soft the music of those village bells
Falling at intervals upon the ear
In cadence sweet!
His very foot has music in 't
As he comes up the stairs.
A fellow in a market town,
Most musical, cried razors up and down.
The soul of music slumbers in the shell
Till waked and kindled by the master's spell;
And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour
A thousand melodies unheard before!
But hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity.
He murmurs near the running brooks
A music sweeter than their own.
The music in my heart I bore
Long after it was heard no more.
Where music dwells
Lingering and wandering on as loth to die,
Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof
That they were born for immortality.
Soft is the music that would charm forever;
The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.
Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.
When his veering gait
And every motion of his starry train
Seem governed by a strain
Of music, audible to him alone.
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.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory's thrill is o'er;
And hearts that once beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse no more.
Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime!
There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium's capital had gather'd then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods;
There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the music breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,--
And oh, that eye was in itself a soul!
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.
Music's golden tongue
Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor.
Music is well said to be the speech of angels.
That heavenly music! what is it I hear?
The notes of the harpers ring sweet in mine ear.
And, see, soft unfolding those portals of gold,
The King all arrayed in his beauty behold!
We join ourselves to no party that does not carry the flag and keep step to the music of the Union.
