Opus Ultimum: The Story of the Mozart Requiem

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Algora Publishing, 2004 - 175 páginas
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The haunting beauty of MozartOCOs Requiem and the tragic circumstances surrounding its composition have made it a favorite among performers and listeners alike. But how much of it is actually MozartOCOs OCo and how do we know? Who wrote the missing pieces? What"
 

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Página 7 - Emilie did as she was desired, and it seemed as if she sought a relief from her own thoughts; for, after running over a few chords of the piano, she commenced in the sweetest voice, the following lines: "Spirit! Thy labor is o'er, Thy term of probation is run, Thy steps are now bound for the untrodden shore And the race of immortals begun. "Spirit! Look not on the strife, Or the pleasures of earth with regret, Pause not on the threshold of limitless life, To mourn for the day that is set. "Spirit!...
Página 7 - Do not deceive yourself, my love," said the dying father ; " this wasted form can never be restored by human aid. From Heaven's mercy alone do I look for aid, in this my dying hour. You spoke of refreshment, my...
Página 7 - Spirit ! thy labour is o'er ! Thy term of probation is run, Thy steps are now bound for the untrodden shore, And the race of immortals begun. Spirit ! look not on the strife Or the pleasures of earth with regret— Pause not on the threshold of limitless life. To mourn for the day that is set. Spirit ! no fetters can bind, No wicked have power to molest ; There the weary, like thee — the wretched, shall find A haven — a mansion of rest.
Página 7 - The dying father then raised himself on his couch ; — " You spoke of refreshment, my daughter; it can still be afforded my fainting soul. Take these notes, the last I shall ever pen, and sit down to the instrument. Sing with them the hymn so beloved by your mother, and let me once more hear those tones which have been my delight since my earliest remembrance.
Página 7 - my Emilie — my task is done — the Requiem — my Requiem is finished." " Say not so, dear father," said the gentle girl, interrupting him, as tears stood in her eyes ; " you must be better — you look better, for even now your cheek has a glow upon it. I am sure we will nurse you well again — let me bring you something refreshing." " Do not deceive yourself, my love," said the dying father ; " this wasted form can never be restored by human aid.
Página 8 - As she concluded the last stanza, she dwelt for a few moments on the low, melancholy notes of the piece, and then waited in silence for the mild voice of her father's praise. He spoke not — and, with something like surprise, she turned towards him. He was laid back on the sofa, his face shaded in part by his hand, and his form reposing as if in slumber.

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