3.

4.

In his dark, carved oaken chair
Sat the old baron-dead!

Hear the tolling of the bells—

Iron bells!

What a world of solemn thought their monody compels.

Effusive Form.

I.

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary.

How sweet the chime of the Sabbath bells!
Each one its creed in music tells,

In tones that float upon the air,

As soft as song, as pure as prayer.

Mabel, little Mabel, with her face against the pane,
Looks out across the night at the beacon in the rain.

How often, oh, how often,

In the days that had gone by,

I had stood on that bridge at midnight
And gazed on that wave and sky.

My soul to-day

Is far away,

Sailing the Vesuvian Bay;

My winged boat,

A bird afloat,

Swims round the purple peaks remote.

Expulsive Form.

I.

"Farewell! farewell! base world, farewell!"

2. Now, by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the golden lilies-upon them with the lance!

3.

"Maclaine! you've scourged me like a hound-
You should have struck me to the ground;
You should have played a chieftain's part;

You should have stabbed me to the heart."

4.

Oh, with what pride I used

To walk these hills, and look up to my God,

And bless him that the land was free!

Explosive Form.

I.

2.

3.

4.

Again to the battle, Achaians!

Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance!

Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree,

It has been, and shall yet be, the land the free!
For the cross of our faith is replanted,

The pale, dying crescent is daunted,

And we march that the footprints of Mahomet's slaves
May be washed out in blood from our forefathers' graves.

FIRE! FIRE! it was raging above and below.

Quick! quick! brave spirits, to his rescue fly;
Up! up! by Heavens! This hero must not die!

Strike-till the last armed foe expires,
Strike-for your altars and your fires,
Strike-for the green graves of your sires,
God-and your native land!

Orotund Form.

I.

2.

3.

By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab,
There lies a lonely grave.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day;
The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea:
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

The way is dark, my child! but leads to light.
I would not always have thee walk by sight.
My dealings now thou canst not understand.
I meant it so; but I will take thy hand,
And through the gloom

Lead safely home

My child!

Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are!
And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre!

Tremulous Form.

I.

2.

3.

O Christ of the seven wounds, who look'dst through the dark
To the face of thy mother! consider, I pray,

How we common mothers stand desolate, mark,

Whose sons, not being Christs, die with eyes turned away,
And no last word to say.

Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,

Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door;
Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span;

Oh, give relief! and heaven will bless your store.

O, my son Absalom! My son Absalom!

Would God I had died for thee. O,
Absalom, my son, my son!

My keg is but low, I confess, Gaffer Gray;
What then? While it lasts, man, we'll live.

"The poor man alone,

When he hears the poor moan,

Of his morsel a morsel will give-Well-a-day !"

SPECIAL MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.

MELODY, TRANSITION AND HARMONY.

FOR CLASS OR PRIVATE PRACTICE.

[NOTE OF EXPLANATION.-In the following exercises the symbols used are thus explained: () high pitch, (.) low pitch, (...) high and loud, (f) fast, (sl) slow, (-) monotone, () gradual increase of tone to the mark or to the end of the sentence, (—) gradual decrease of tone. Words printed in italics should be played upon, those printed in SMALL CAPITALS should be given in a deep tone of voice, those printed in CAPITALS should be given with great force].

3. (sl)

4.

(f)

The sun hath set in folded clouds,
Its twilight rays are gone;
And, gathered in the shades of night,
The STORM is rolling on.

Alas! how ill that bursting STORM
The fainting spirit braves,

When they, the lovely and the lost,
Are gone to early graves!

Ha ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,
The line, too, labors, and the words move slow;
Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,

Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main.

Oh! Mona's waters are blue and bright

When the sun shines out like a gay young lover;

But Mona's waters are dark as night

When the face of heaven is clouded over.

5.

6.

7.

But, lo! he is nearing his heart's desire;
He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray,
With Sheridan only five miles away.

8.

-) The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low.

9.

"Ho! a sail! Ho! a sail!" cried the man at the lea,

"Ho! a sail!" and they turned their glad eyes o'er the sea.

66

They see us, they see us, the signal is waved!

They bear down upon us, they bear down upon us;

Huzza! we are saved!"

IO.

For weeks the clouds had raked the hills.

II.

12.

Co', boss! co', boss! co'! co'! co'!

Blow, bugle, blow; set the wild echoes flying;
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

15.

Hear the mellow wedding bells,

Rejoice, you men of Angiers! ring your bells:

King John, your King and England's, doth approach-
Open your gates, and give the victors way!

Must test the soul!" said a soft bell.
"Farewell! farewell! base world, farewell!"
In touching tones exclaimed a bell.
"To all, the truth we tell! we tell!"
Shouted in ecstasies a bell.

**

**

17. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to youtrippingly on the tongue; but, if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spake my lines.

18. Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.