Each more melodious note I hear
Brings sad reproach to me,
That I alone afford the ear,
Who would the music be.[1]
The brave man is the sole patron of music;[2] he recognizes it for his mother-tongue, a more mellifluous and articulate language than words, in comparison with which speech is recent and temporary. It is his voice. His language must have the same majestic movement and cadence that philosophy assigns to the heavenly bodies. The steady flux of his thought constitutes time in music. The universe falls in and keeps pace with it, which before proceeded singly and discordant. Hence are poetry and song. When Bravery first grew afraid and went to war, it took music along with it. The soul delighted still to hear the echo of its own voice. Especially the soldier insists on agreement and harmony always. Indeed, it is that friendship there is in war that makes it chivalrous and heroic. It was the dim sentiment of a noble friendship for the purest soul the world has seen, that gave to Europe a crusading era.[3]
The day of tilts and tournaments has gone by, but no herald summons us to the tournament of love.
- ↑ [The Service, p. 11.]
- ↑ [Week, p. 183; Riv. 228.]
- ↑ [The Service, p. 11.]
one's virtue is bravery, the other's bravery virtue. Mankind still pay to the soldier the honors due only to the hero. They delight to do him honor. He is adorned with silver and gold and the colors of the rainbow, invested with outward splendor; music is for him especially, and his life is a holiday.
