"I am in need of music that would flow over my fretful, feeling finger-tips, over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips, with melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow. Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low, of some song sung to rest the tired dead, a song to fall like water on my head, and over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow! There is a magic made by melody: a spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool heart, that sinks through fading colors deep to the subaqueous stillness of the sea, and floats forever in a moon-green pool, held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep."
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