BUT DIE WITH ALL THEIR MUSIC IN THEM!
Begin, again.
Well, I don’t exactly know where to start other than to say that I am extremely proud of the Music Studio on Harrison Hill. No project of mine has been so rewarding, difficult, unique, and fun all at the same time. With growth comes changes and I hope to keep the gathered community informed through this blog. After all, what is a music education cooperative? What do we think we’re doing? How does MSHH grow? What is my role? Your role?
In summary, join me on the journey.
WE count the broken lyres that rest
Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,
But o’er their silent sister’s breast
The wild-flowers who will stoop to number?
A few can touch the magic string,
And noisy Fame is proud to win them:—
Alas for those that never sing,
But die with all their music in them!Nay, grieve not for the dead alone
Whose song has told their hearts’ sad story,—
Weep for the voiceless, who have known
The cross without the crown of glory!
Not where Leucadian breezes sweep
O’er Sappho’s memory-haunted billow,
But where the glistening night-dews weep
On nameless sorrow’s churchyard pillow.O hearts that break and give no sign
Save whitening lip and fading tresses,
Till Death pours out his longed-for wine
Slow-dropped from Misery’s crushing presses,—
If singing breath or echoing chord
To every hidden pang were given,
What endless melodies were poured,
As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven!
The Voiceless Oliver Wendell Holmes
1858
