This boy, many things of him, 
From his father, is a synonym; 
What his father wills 
This boy’s soul fulfills, 
Thus, both have the same mind, 
Each producing thoughts of one kind. 
Both could understand hypnotism 
And do feats of mysticism. 
The father had the identical name 
That gave his son fame. 
Ah, what name was this boy called! 
Surely it was not the appellation Paul. 
What was his name, then? 
Listen, my dear friend: 
His family name was Block— 
A chip of the old Block! 
MELODIOUS THOUGHTS. 
Music, to the ear, is nicety; 
To the soul, sublime delicacy. 
From the symphony of the guitar 
To the harmony of the Acolian harp 
We receive sweet sounds that are mellifluous 
Silver-toned, dulcet, and euphonious; 
The march, waltz, opera, serenade, 
Make us all lively, animated, play. 
The trumpet, choir, organist, 
The fiddle, mandolin, pianist, 
All their constituents of musical play 
Vibrate duets, trios throughout space. 
And what about the violin and violoncello, 
Bugle, bell, accordeon, and piano? 
Surely, they are as good as the cornet, 
Trombone, bagpipes, clarion, and flagolet. 
Without the science of acoustics. aes 
We can not have chromatics. 
Hence, pitch, treble, tenor, high or low, 
In conjunction with accute or grave, alto, 
We must take into consideration intonation 
Whereby we embrace ganut, modulation. 
Thus, the staff, lines, bars, and braces 
Find their harmonious, measured spaces. 
72 
