The century illustrated monthly magazine . hungcarelessly over the books, while the right handgrasps the score of Dies Irae. The head droops in pity, and the face is unutterably four corners of the base bear each acandelabrum twined with laurel. The front ofthe pedestal has a bronze relief of the com-poser, and the rear a wreathed harp. On oneside is written Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart,born January 27, 1756; died December 5,1791. Nearly seventy years after his deaththis tardy tribute was erected over his supposedburial-place. But genius has left its own imperishable mon-ument. The world st
The century illustrated monthly magazine . hungcarelessly over the books, while the right handgrasps the score of Dies Irae. The head droops in pity, and the face is unutterably four corners of the base bear each acandelabrum twined with laurel. The front ofthe pedestal has a bronze relief of the com-poser, and the rear a wreathed harp. On oneside is written Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart,born January 27, 1756; died December 5,1791. Nearly seventy years after his deaththis tardy tribute was erected over his supposedburial-place. But genius has left its own imperishable mon-ument. The world still laughs and weeps overMozarts divine creations, when he who wouldhave been gladdened by its sympathy is nolonger conscious of it. The inspired singer ofSalzburg, who felt so keenly and voiced soperfectly the joys and the sufferings of human-ity, sleeps in an unknown grave; but his sorrow-ful face looks back upon us to-day across themists of a century crowned with a radiant im-mortality though veiled in eternal tears. Amelia Gere REMEMBRANCE. O (FROM A JAPANESE GARDEN.). NE year ago, a bleak November,I walked along the chilly waysWhere through the gray, damp, misty hazeThe Isis flows. How well, how clearly, I rememberThe drear homesickness for the sun,There where the skies were always dun,And life dull prose. And now, this radiant November,Where gold chrysanthemums upraiseA glory oer my garden-ways,And blooms the rose, With some strange longing I rememberGray,Oxford, neath her skies of , that I should be her son,And love her prose ! William Sharp. THE TWO LESSONS. Disce, puer, virtutem ex me, verumque laborem; Fortunam ex aliis. — Apneas to Ascanius ( /Eneid, XII., 435). LEARN, boy, from me what dwells in man alone,Courage immortal, and the steadfast sway Of patient toil, that glorifies the day. What most ennobles life is all our own;Yet not the whole of life; the fates atone For what they give by what they keep away. Learn thou from others all the triumphs
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjectamerica, bookyear1882
