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When I'm in this place I have not a care in the world, for I cast all my cares upon you.
"It seems strange to think that my violin was once a tree, but I do not know what else could have caught the music that lies within it, waiting for the touch. It must be centuries old, and through all those years it was the listening and the learning, weaving in with its growth the forest melodies to sing to generations yet unborn.
Wind and wave and song of bird, crash of thunder, drip of rain, and mating-call-all these are in the fibre of my violin. And the thousand notes of sea and storm, the music of the waterfall and stream-what wonder that it is so nearly the human voice! There must have been a love story in that forest, for it sings love, love, and only love, though I do not remember of hearing it until I knew you.
Perhaps you have taught it a new melody-stranger things have happened-and it has learned your lesson best."
"Buried Music" From "Love Letters Of A Musician" by Myrtle Reed,
Copyright 1898.
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