Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata[1]
And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
—Longfellow.
Beethoven
Reproduced by permission Braun et Cie.,
[1] The text of the Beethoven Moonlight Sonata is reprinted from the Aldine Fourth Reader, through the courtesy of the publishers, Newson & Co., New York.
It happened at Bonn. One moonlight winter’s evening I called upon Beethoven, for I wanted him to take a walk and afterward sup with me. In passing through some dark, narrow street he paused suddenly. “Hush!” he said—“What sound is that? It is from my Sonata in F!” he said eagerly. “Hark! how well it is played!”