A DAY WITH SCHUBERT pure and perfect, the very Silvia of Shakespeare's imagining, smiles to hear herself portrayed in such lovely accents " Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heavens such grace did lend her, " That adored she might be Silvia,
:
;
and Imogen, half awake, hears the actual flutter of skyward wings in those exquisite phrases which tell how " the lark at heaven's .
.
gate sings,
.
And Phoebus 'gins arise, And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes." The impassioned pours he strains,
cheri)
forth
lover of Serenade (Stand-
his
pleading
in
immortal
vaguely visible through the warm enchanted darkness where the nightingale also sings, and the unhappy hero of The Wraith is
just
(Du Doppelganger) stands horror-struck before beloved's dwelling in the moonlight, and sees his phantom likeness wringing its hands.
his
**
Thou
thou phantom before me, mock'st thou thus my love and woe,
pallid spectre,
Why
The pangs that on this threshold tore me, So many a night, long years ago ? " 40