large/6923/diary_pilgrimage_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/diaryofapilgrimage_11_jerome_64kb_6
large/6923/diary_pilgrimage_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/diaryofapilgrimage_11_jerome_64kb
English
6923
"They saw him, as they had often seen him in pictures, sitting for the last time with his disciples at supper. THEY SAW HIM AS THEY HAD OFTEN SEEN HIM IN PICTURES SITTING FOR THE LAST TIME WITH HIS DISCIPLES AT SUPPER
od doctor's. I am sure if a man did fall in love with a voice, he would find, on tracing it to its source, that it was the voice of some homely-looking German woman. I have never heard such exquisite soul-drawing music in my life, as I have more than once heard float from the lips of some sweet-faced German Fraulein when she opened her mouth to speak. The voice has been so pure, so clear, so deep, so full of soft caressing tenderness, so strong to comfort, so gentle to soothe, it has seemed like one of those harmonies musicians tell us that they dream of, but can never chain to earth. "As I sat in the theatre, listening to the wondrous tones of this mountain peasant-woman, rising and falling like the murmur of a sea, filling the vast sky-covered building with their yearning notes, stirring like a great wind stirs AEolian strings, the thousands of trembling hearts around her, it seemed to me that I was indeed listening to the voice of the 'mother of the world,' of mother Nature herself. ITHER STATEMENT OF THE GOOD DOCTOR'S I AM SURE IF A MAN DID FALL IN LOVE WITH A VOICE HE WOULD FIND ON TRACING IT TO ITS SOURCE THAT IT WAS THE VOICE OF SOME HOMELY LOOKING GERMAN WOMAN I HAVE NEVER HEARD SUCH EXQUISITE SOUL DRAWING MUSIC IN MY LIFE AS I HAVE MORE THAN ONCE HEARD FLOAT FROM THE LIPS OF SOME SWEET FACED GERMAN FRAU LINE WHEN SHE OPENED HER MOUTH TO SPEAK THE VOICE HAS BEEN SO PURE SO CLEAR SO DEEP SO FULL OF SOFT CARESSING TENDERNESS SO STRONG TO COMFORT SO GENTLE TO SOOTHE IT HAS SEEMED LIKE ONE OF THOSE HARMONIES MUSICIANS TELL US THAT THEY DREAM OF BUT CAN NEVER CHAIN TO EARTH AS I SAT IN THE THEATRE LISTENING TO THE WONDROUS TONES OF THIS MOUNTAIN PEASANT WOMAN RISING AND FALLING LIKE THE MURMUR OF A SEA FILLING THE VAST SKY COVERED BUILDING WITH THEIR YEARNING NOTES STIRRING LIKE A GREAT WIND STIRS AEOLIAN STRINGS FOR THOUSANDS OF TREMBLING HEARTS AROUND HER IT SEEMED TO ME THAT I WAS INDEED LISTENING TO THE VOICE OF THE MOTHER OF THE WORLD OF MOTHER NATURE HERSELF
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