| THAT music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning—yet long untaught I did not hear; | |
| But now the chorus I hear, and am elated; | |
| A tenor, strong, ascending, with power and health, with glad notes of day-break I hear, | |
| A soprano, at intervals, sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense waves, | |
| A transparent bass, shuddering lusciously under and through the universe, | 5 |
| The triumphant tutti—the funeral wailings, with sweet flutes and violins—all these I fill myself with; | |
| I hear not the volumes of sound merely—I am moved by the exquisite meanings, | |
| I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving, contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in emotion; | |
| I do not think the performers know themselves—but now I think I begin to know them. |
Walt. Whitman
Please help some of my musical friends: http://comfortclub.no/
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