Atlantic Monthly, Vol. XII. September, 1863, No. LXXI.

s room, listening to that which it thrilled him to tell and

red into her destiny; thenceforth flowers bloomed for her out of exercise-books, and she could touch the notes which were sun-bursts, and those which were mosses beneath them. From this training she came before the best audience in Germany, and stood a sad-eyed, beautiful child of fourteen summers, and by acclamation was crowned the Queen of the Piano. Franz Liszt remembered his enthusiasm of that period, an

ician, weary

or locked his

ond casket, f

key into the

re tried with a

ol can pick th

till slumber, li

ld, along the se

ves, in hurryi

oughtless, as y

r white finger

lifts, and holds

p, her heart stil

ces, as with ey

l, up flies the

, then bow them

acious, innocent

ingers guides th

Robert Schumann. On her first appearance, he wrote,-"Others make poetry,-she is a poem." And soon afterward,-"She

er?" he poured out before this child the half-revealed hopes striving within him; an equal spell was woven about her ingenuous and earnest heart, and their souls were joined in that purple morning; in due time they

s of a new life." The "Alternatives," with song, "My peace is o'er"; "Evening Thoughts"; "Impromptus," (whose first theme was written by Clara): these; seemed like the emotion of some newly winged aspirant released from its chrysalis, resting on its first flower. But faster than planets through the abysses Love moves on. Florestan ceased, and there was a long sile

confessed that he thought also of certain prospective thalers. Willing as he was that all Leipsic should admire his daughter, he did not like the enthusiasm of the "Zeitschrift." He then began to warn Clara against "this Faust in m

ll acquaintance, forbade Robert's visits to his house. Then, inaug

obert was forbidden to write to her; but the "Schw?rmibriefe of Eusebius to Chiara," utterly unintelligible to the general reader of the "Zeitschrift," who, do

us? (Warum!) And how thou wilt have thought of us last night, from the 'Meeresstille' to the flaming close of the A major symphony! I also thought of t

s "Myrthen," whose dedication, Seiner geliebten Braut, breaks forth i

orgeous fruits, his glorious First Symphony, which some one has well called the Symphony of Bliss, yet, ere this bliss was more than an elusive vision, the two passed through fierce wilde

ed by these exquisite pieces when they ceas