01648 – When We Come To It

We, this people, on this small and drifting planet Whose hands can strike with such abandon That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness That the haughty neck is happy to bow And the...

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00872 – Life is Short; Art Eternal

What will be the judgment a century hence concerning the lorded works of our favorite composers today? Inasmuch as nearly everything is subject to the changes of time, and—more’s the pity—the fashions of time, only that which is good and true will endure like a rock...

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