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I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a grayling.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers,
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses ;
I loiter round my cresses.
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river;
- Alfred Tennyson.
You bells in the steeple, ring, ring out your changes,
How many soever they be,
Come over, come over to me.
Yet birds' clearest carol by fall or by swelling
No magical sense conveys,
The fortune of future days.
“ Turn again, turn again," once they rang cheerily,
While a boy listened alone :
Al by himself on a stone.
Poor bells ! I forgive you ; your good days are over,
And mine,--they are yet to be;
You leave the story to me.—Jean Ingelow.
Example of Narration.
THE VISION OF MIRZAH.
On the fifth day of the moon, which, according to the custom of my forefathers, I always keep holy, after having washed myself and offered up my morning devotions, I ascended the high hill of Bagdat, in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer.
As I was here airing myself on the tops of the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human life; and, passing from one thought to another, Surely, said I, man is but a shadow and life a dream.
Whilst I was thus musing, I cast my eyes towards the summit of a rock that was not far from me, where I discovered one in the habit of a shepherd, with a musical instrument in his hand. As I looked upon him, he applied it to his lips and began to play upon it.
The sound of it was exceedingly sweet, and wrought into a variety of tones that were inexpressibly melodious, and altogether different from anything I had ever heard. They put me in mind of those heavenly airs that are played to the departed souls of good men upon their first arrival in Paradise, to wear out the impression of their last agonies and qualify them for the pleasures of that happy place. My heart melted away in secret raptures.
I had often been told that the rock before me was the haunt of a Genius, and that several had been entertained with music who had passed by it, but never heard that the musician had before made himself visible. When he had raised my thoughts, by those transporting airs which he played, to taste the pleasures of his conversation, as I looked upon him like one astonished, he beckoned to me, and by the waving of his hand directed me to approach the place where he sat. I drew
near, with that reverence which is due to a superior nature. And, as my heart was entirely subdued by the captivating strains
I had heard, I fell down at his feet and wept. The Genius smiled upon me with a look of compassion that familiarized him to my imagination, and at once dispelled the fears with which I approached him.
He lifted me from the ground, and taking me by the hand,
" Mirzah,” said he, “I have heard thee in thy soliloquies. Follow me.”
He then led me to the highest pinnacle of the rock, and placing me on the top of it,
“Cast thy eyes eastward,” said he, “and tell me what thou seest."
"I see," said I, “a huge valley, and a prodigious tide of water rolling through it."
“The valley that thou seest is the Vale of Misery, and the tide of water is part of the great tide of eternity.”
“What is the reason,” said I, - that the tide rises out of a thick mist at one end, and loses itself in a thick mist on the other?”.
“What thou seest,” said he, “is that portion of eternity called time, measured out by the sun, and reaching from the beginning of the world to its consummation."
“I see a bridge,” said I, “standing in the midst of the tide.”
“ The bridge thou seest,” said he, “is human life. Consider it attentively."
Upon a more leisurely survey of it, I found that it consisted of threescore and ten arches, with several broken arches, which, added to those that were entire, made up the number about a hundred. As I was counting the arches, the Genius told me that this bridge consisted at first of a thousand arches, but that a great flood swept away the rest, and left the bridge in the ruinous condition I now beheld it.
“But tell me further,” said he, “what thou discoverest on it."
“I see multitudes of people passing over it, and a black cloud on each end.”
As I looked more attentively I saw several of the passengers dropping through the bridge into the great tide that flowed underneath; and, upon further examination, perceived that there were innumerable trap-doors that lay concealed in the bridge, which the passengers no sooner trod upon but they fell through them into the tide and immediately disappeared. These hidden pitfalls were set
very thick at the entrance of the bridge, so that throngs of people no sooner broke through the cloud but many of them fell into them. There were indeed some, but their number was small, that struggled along on the broken arches ; but they, too, fell through, one after another, being tired and spent with so long a walk.
My heart was filled with a deep melancholy to see several dropping unexpectedly in the midst of mirth and jollity, and catching at everything that stood by to save themselves. Some were looking up towards the heavens in a thoughtful posture. Multitudes were busy in the pursuit of bubbles that glittered in their eyes
and danced before them; but when they thought themselves within reach of them their footing failed, and down they sank.
“Take thine eyes off the bridge,” said the Genius, “and tell me if thou yet seest anything thou dost not comprehend."
Upon looking up, “What mean,” said I, " those great flights of birds that are hovering about the bridge and settling upon it from time to time? I see vultures, harpies, ravens, cormorants, and many other feathered creatures, and several little winged boys, that perch in great numbers upon the middle arches.”
These,” said the Genius, are envy, avarice, superstition, despair, love, with the like cares and passions that infest human life.”
“Alas!” said I, “man was made in vain! How is he given away to misery and mortality,—tortured in life and swallowed up in death!”
“Look no more,” said the Genius, “on man in the first stage of his existence, in his setting out for eternity; but cast thine eye on that thick mist into which the tide bears the several generations of mortals that fall into it.”
I directed my sight as I was ordered, and saw the valley opening at the farther end, and spreading forth into an immense ocean that had a huge rock of adamant running through the midst of it and dividing it into two equal parts.
The clouds still rested on one half of it. The other appeared to me a vast ocean, planted with innumerable islands that were covered with fruits and flowers, and interwoven with a thousand little shining seas that ran among them. I could see persons dressed in glowing habits, and could hear a confused harmony of singing birds, falling waters, human voices, and musical instruments. Gladness grew in me upon the
discovery of so delightful a scene. I wished for the wings of an eagle that I might fly away to those happy seats, but the Genius told me there was no passage to them except through the gates of death that I saw opening every moment upon the bridge.
“ The islands,” said he, “that lie so fresh and green before thee, and with which the whole face of the ocean appears spotted as far as thou canst see, are more in number than the sands on the seashore. There are myriads of islands behind those, reaching farther than thine eye or even thine imagination can extend itself. These are the mansions of good men after death, who, according to the degree and kind of virtue in which they excelled, are distributed among these islands which abound with pleasures of different kinds and degrees. Every island is a paradise accommodated to its respective inhabitants. Are not these, O Mirzah, habitations worth contending for? Does life appear miserable that gives the opportunities of earning such a reward? Is death to be feared that will convey thee to so happy an existence ? Think not man was made in vain who has such an eternity before him.”
The Orotund tone is round and full, and may be said to be
the maximum of the Pure Quality. It has clearness, strength, smoothness, and musical quality,
which form the highest perfection of the human voice. It was called "ore rotunda” by the poet Horace, when referring to the flowing eloquence of the Greeks. It is used to express Awe, Reverence, Sublimity, Grandeur, and Courage,—also Pathos and Strong Emotion.
Standard Quality Calling Tone.
“Now for the fight! Now for the cannon peal!
Forward,—through blood, and toil, and cloud, and fire!
The volley's roll, the rocket's blasting spire !