Programme, Томи 1917 – 1918

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The Orchestra, 1917

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Сторінка 1104 - Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the doorslab.
Сторінка 900 - I cannot speak enough of this content ; It stops me here ; it is too much of joy ; And this, and this, the greatest discords be [Kissing her.
Сторінка 835 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman ? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human? But where are the snows of yester-year?
Сторінка 274 - Beat! beat! drums!— blow! bugles! blow! Make no parley— stop for no expostulation, Mind not the timid— mind not the weeper or prayer, Mind not the old man beseeching the young man, Let not the child's voice be heard, nor the mother's entreaties, Make even the trestles to shake the dead where they lie awaiting the hearses, So strong you thump O terrible drums— so loud you bugles blow.
Сторінка 804 - The symphony is scored for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets, kettledrums and strings.
Сторінка 274 - Beat! beat! drums!— blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows— through doors— burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, Into the school where the scholar is studying; Leave not the bridegroom quiet— no happiness must he have now with his bride, Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or gathering his grain, So fierce you whirr and pound you drums— so shrill you bugles blow.
Сторінка 92 - The first man I saw was of a meagre aspect, with sooty hands and face, his hair and beard long, ragged and singed in several places. His clothes, shirt, and skin were all of the same colour.
Сторінка 901 - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Сторінка 1087 - Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck : Are not you he ? Puck.
Сторінка 1131 - The string, wind and percussion nucleus of the orchestra - including two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones and timpanist Thomas Batley - consisted always of members on the 'weekly

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