Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/573

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) | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = One to destroy is murder by the law, And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; To murder thousands takes a specious name, War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame. Young—Love of Fame. Satire VII. L. 55. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Porteus)

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Killing no murder. Title of a tract in Harleian Miscellany, ascribed to Col. Silas Titus, recommending the murder of Cromwell.

MUSIC Music religious heat inspires, It wakes the soul, and lifts it high, And wings it with sublime desires, And fits it to bespeak the Deity. | author = Addison | work = A Song for St. Cecilia's Day. St. 4. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, Expels diseases, softens every pain, Subdues the rage of poison, and the plague. John Armstrong—Art of Preserving Health. Bk. IV. L. 512. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = That rich celestial music thrilled the air From hosts on hosts of shining ones, who thronged Eastward and westward, making bright the night. Edwin Arnold—Light of Asia. Bk. IV. L. 418. Music tells no truths. Bailey—Festus. Sc. A Village Feast. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Rugged the breast that music cannot tame. J. C. Bampfylde—Sonnet. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Bramston}}) | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = If music and sweet poetry agree. Baenfield—Sonnet. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Gayly the troubadour Touched his guitar. Thomas Haynes Bayly—Welcome Me Home. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I'm saddest when I sing. Thomas Haynes Bayly—You think I have a merry heart. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Aetemus Ward}}) | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = God is its author, and not man; he laid The key-note of all harmonies; he planned All perfect combinations, and he made Us so that we could hear and understand. J. G. Brainard—Music. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The rustle of the leaves in summer's hush When wandering breezes touch them, and the sigh That filters through the forest, or the gush That swells and sinks amid the branches high,— 'Tis all the music of the wind, and we Let fancy float on this seolian breath. J. G. Brainard—Music. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = "Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast," And therefore proper at a sheriff's feast. James Bramston—jMan of Taste. First line quoted from Prior. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Bampfylde, Congeeve, Prior}}) | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = And sure there is music even in the beauty, and the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument; for there is music wherever there is harmony, order, or proportion; and thus far we may maintain the music of the spheres. Sir Thomas Browne—Religio Medici. Pt. II, Sec. IX. Use of the phrase "Music of the Spheres" given by Bishop Martin Fotherby—Athconastrix. P. 315. (Ed. 1622) Said by Bishop John Wilktns— Discovery of 'a New World. I. 42. (Ed. 1694) | seealso = (See also {{sc|Butler, Byron, Cowley, Job, Milton, Montaigne, Moore}}) | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Yet half the beast is the great god Pan, To laugh, as he sits by the river, Making a poet out of a man. The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain— For the reed that grows never more again Jsa reed with the reeds of the river. E. B. Browning—A Musical Instrument. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Music | page = 535 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Her voice, the music of the spheres, So loud, it deafens mortals' ears; As wise philosophers have thought, And that's the cause we hear it not. Butler—Hudibras. Pt. II. Canto I. L. 617. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Browne)