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John Milton

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Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!
--
Line 61.

 
John Milton

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Tags: John Milton Quotes, Sadness Quotes, Music Quotes, Authors starting by M


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"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh! idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.
But some night-wandering man, whose heart was pierced
With the remembrance of a grievous wrong,
Or slow distemper, or neglected love,
(And so, poor wretch! filled all things with himself,
And made all gentle sounds tell back the tale
Of his own sorrow) he, and such as he,
First named these notes a melancholy strain.

 
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
 

Hence, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly!
There's naught in this life sweet
But only melancholy;
O sweetest melancholy!

 
John Fletcher
 

All my joys to this are folly
Naught so sweet as melancholy.

 
Robert Burton
 

Sound is defined as the result of a succession of regular and periodic vibrations. Noise is instead caused by motions that are irregular, as much in time as in intensity. 'A musical sensation,' says Helmholtz 'appears to the ear as a perfectly stable, uniform, and invariable sound.' But the quality of continuity that sound has with respect to noise, which seems instead fragmentary and irregular, is not an element sufficient to make a sharp distinction betweens sound and noise. We know that the production of sound requires not only that a body vibrate regularly but also thta these vibrations persist in the auditory nerve until the following vibration has arrived, so that the periodic vibrations blend to form a continous musical sound. At least sixteen vibrations per second are needed for this. Now, if I succeed in producing a noise with this speed. I will get a sound made up of the totality of so many noises--or better, noise whose successive repetitions will be sufficiently rapid to give a sensation of continuity like that of sound.

 
Luigi Russolo
 

Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea,
Why takest thou its melancholy voice,
And with that boding cry
Why o'er the waves dost fly?
O, rather, bird, with me
Through the fair land rejoice!

 
Richard Henry Dana
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