Her voice is borne on the wings of a dove,
With many kind thoughts and praises of love,
She has sung to us all, and we'll never forget
The beautiful voice of my Lady Margaret.
The writer of this poem, Mary Alice Sanford, came into my life in
1908. Her family moved into the flat above mine some time in August of
that year. Her mother informed me that she was musical, and from the
way she spoke I expected to see a young woman of about nineteen or
twenty years. I was surprised, instead, a few days later, to see a
slip of a schoolgirl looking at me in a timid way and rather reserved
in manner. Later I invited her into the studio and I asked her if she
liked music, to which she said yes. During the call she said she
wished to sing. She had never had any instruction, her music was
instrumental altogether. After she had given me an example of her
instrumental work I said she should sing also, but at this she
informed me she could not afford the vocal with the other, but her
desire was to sing as well as play. I asked her what ability she had
for reading or accompanying. She informed me she read her notes
rapidly. At this I handed her the fifty lessons by Concone and opened
to the first exercises, asked her to play while I sang for her. I
thought perhaps the first lessons were too easy so I gave her a more
difficult one, and I found she could read the most difficult lessons
in the book and accompany with the greatest ease.
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