peel, meal, feel, pä, fä, mä, deal-pile, mile, file, day. tile. dä -pooh, boo, moo, dō. The Fourth Step is Reading. Selections involving the sentiments of serenity, beauty, and love, are best suited for exercises in vocal purity. The effusive form of utterance, and the long vowel quantities required for the proper expression of these sentiments, will enable the student to detect harshness or impurity in the tones of his voice. Singing or chanting exercises may be introduced here, but it is better to use only a few exercises, inasmuch as the same vocal principle enunciated in the second step will be repeated with slight variations in all these exercises. As soon as the pupil is aware of the impurity of the tones he is using, and has a clear notion of how to improve the quality of his voice in the use of a few wellchosen exercises, he should be put to the reading of selections. The stimulus of thought and sentiment, and the awakened powers of appreciation, will encourage him in his work, and at the same time furnish as good opportunities for vocal practice as the abstract exercises. EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. SONG. When stars are in the quiet skies, As stars look on the sea. For thoughts, like waves that glide by night, Mine earthly love lies hushed in light Beneath the heaven of thine. There is an hour when angels keep When coarser souls are wrapt in sleep- Through slumber fairest glide, And in that mystic hour it seems Thou shouldst be by my side. The thoughts of thee too sacred are When stars are in the silent skies, Then most I pine for thee; Bend on me, then, thy tender eyes, As stars look on the sea. Sir Edward Lytton. Frequently test the purity of the tone you are using by prolonging the vowel quantity in certain words, and then use the same pure quality in shortened form for reading—thus, in the first line of the song the words stars and skies whose vowels are long, may be so used; also in the second line the words pine and thee, etc. DRIFTING. My soul to-day Is far away, My winged boat, A bird afloat, Swims round the purple peaks remote: Round purple peaks It sails and seeks Blue inlets, and their crystal creeks, Where high rocks throw, Through deeps below, A duplicated golden glow. Far, vague and dim, The mountains swim: Here Ischia smiles And yonder, bluest of the isles, Calm Capri waits, Her sapphire gates Beguiling to her bright estates. I heed not if My rippling skiff Float swift or slow from cliff to cliff;With dreamful eyes Under the walls Where swells and falls The Bay's deep breast at intervals, Blown softly by, A cloud upon this liquid sky. The day, so mild, Is Heaven's own child, With Earth and Ocean reconciled;- Around me steal Are murmuring to the murmuring keel. Over the rail My hand I trail Within the shadow of the sail, A joy intense, The cooling sense, Glides down my drowsy indolence. With dreamful eyes My spirit lies Where Summer sings and never dies,— O'erveiled with vines, She glows and shines Among her future oil and wines. Her children hid The cliffs amid, Are gamboling with the gamboling kid; Or down the walls, With tipsy calls, Laugh on the rocks like waterfalls. The fisher's child, With tresses wild, Unto the smooth, bright sand beguiled, With glowing lips Sings as she skips, Or gazes at the far-off ships. Yon deep bark goes Where traffic blows, From lands of sun to lands of snows;- Its course is run PASSING AWAY. Was it the chime of a tiny bell That came so sweet to my dreaming ear, Like the silvery tones of a fairy's shell, That he winds on the beach so mellow and clear, While the boatman listens and ships his oar, But, no; it was not a fairy's shell, Blown on the beach, so mellow and clear: Striking the hours that fell on my ear, (As you've sometimes seen, in a little ring Oh, how bright were the wheels, that told And lo! she had changed;-in a few short hours, Yet then, when expecting her happiest day, While I gazed on that fair one's cheek, a shade The rose yet lay on her cheek, but its flush Had something lost of its brilliant blush; And the light in her eye, and the light on the wheels, That marched so calmly round above her, Was a little dimmed-as when evening steals Upon noon's hot face:—yet one could n't but love her; |