" Who could resist the tender pleadings of the
tired song bird. I called her my nightingale for her singing was done
at night. One of her songs was the Nightingale's Trill or Queen of the
Night. The memory of her singing ever lingers with me like the sweet
perfume wafted from the distant isle, its subtle influence sinking
upon the senses, calming the tired child as upon the mother's breast
it rests in perfect peace and confidence. Its message accomplished, it
floated away into space to travel on, and, forever until it reached
the Giver of every perfect gift and rested in the Heavenly Courts
above from everlasting to everlasting.
Rest, weary pilgrim, from toil reposing,
Night's darkening shadow round thee is closing,
Drear is the pathway frowning before thee,
No stars on high to guide and watch o'er me;
Rest, weary pilgrim; rest, weary pilgrim.
Rest, weary pilgrim, 'till morning breaking,
And birds around thee bright songs awakening;
Hark, through the forest chill winds are blowing,
Here there is friendship and kind welcome glowing,
Rest, weary pilgrim; rest, weary pilgrim.
--Donizetti.
PAULINE PETERSON
The fourth discordant note in my instrument came to me by the death of
one of my later pupils, Miss Pauline Peterson, who began with her
sister, Miss Minnie Peterson, in 1896. She was fair to look upon and
her voice was sweet and pure and in range two full octaves.
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