The hushed winds their Sabbath keep.
Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment; wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.
I shall seeThe hour of death draw near to me,Hope, blossoming within my heart. . . .
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue.
Ah! never shall the land forget.
The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves within.