The music of Don Gillis III; 4

You're listening to music by Don give us. Welcome once again to present. With both frequency and amplitude modulation Killah cycles transmitters and all of those other wonderful phrases you hear on the radio and besides phrases you get me and I was ready to tell you all about the fact that this week we're going to hear the setting for narrator an orchestra of a poem by Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven and shortly following some talk and what is to be a short short intermission. We'll hear the Rhapsody for harp and orchestra. Now both scores have similar distinctions both have hardest to make the performances possible. Now it's an arms that is Narrator In the case of the raven and Edward Vito as a soloist on the harp Rhapsody. Both pieces are played by the

NBC symphony orchestra and naturally both pieces were written by me that's one thing you can generally count on on this program friends. If you hear it here I wrote it anyway so I won't talk on and on I've written an especially short opening spot with just enough time to announce the number the first number and as a Radionics I manage to ever hear at least at these prices and without even clearing my throat out again. Ladies and gentlemen the music you're about to hear is titled The Raven a musical setting of Edgar Allen Poe's poem played by the NBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Dr Roy she old with Nelson dead as your narrator. Yes. Once Upon a Midnight.

We vary over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten your. BYLINE Not a nearly nap and. Suddenly there came a tapping as of some one gently rapping rapping at my chamber door. This visitor. Happening at my Greenburg. Only this and nothing more. This way I remember. It was in the Greek symbol separate rockets go upon the floor. Eagerly I wish tomorrow. Vainly I had sought to borrow from my books are seeds of sorrow sorrow for the loss nor. For the rare and radiant maiden whom the Angels name man or nameless here. For evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before. So that now I'll just kill the beating of my heart. I stood repeating. To some visitor and reading in peace at my chamber door. Some late visitor intriguing entrance at my chamber door. This it is and nothing more. Presently my soul grew stronger. Hesitating then no longer sir said I or madam. Truly your forgiveness I implore. But the fact is I was napping and so gently you came rapping and so faintly you came tapping. Tapping at my chamber door. But I scarce was sure I heard you here. I opened wide the door. Darkness there and nothing.

When you're that darkness spearing. Long I stood there wondering fearing doubting dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. But the silence was unbroken. And the stillness gave no token and the only word there spoken was the whispered word. They know. This I whispered and then echo murmured back the word. They know. Only this and nothing. Then into the chamber turning all my soul within me burning. Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before. Surely said I surely that is something at my window lattice. Let me

see then what there and is in this mystery explore. Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore. Tis the wind and nothing more. Open here I flung the shutter. Coin with many a flirt and flutter. In their step just take me raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least of basins maybe not an instant stop. Firstly. What was the meaning of lord or lady. Perched. Above my chamber door. Perched. Upon the bust of Pallas just above my chamber door. And sat. And nothing more. Than this Ebony bird beguiling my fancy and the smiling by the grave and stern decorum of the cauldron of the.

Rest be shorn and shaven. I said I'd sure no craven ghastly grim an ancient Raven wondering from the nightly for tell me what thy lordly name is on the night her daughter and. The Raven. Nevermore are. Much I marvel. This ungainly fowl to hear discourse a plain. Sense a little meaning a little relevancy for we cannot help agreeing that no living human being ever yet was blessed with seeing bird about his chamber door bird or beast the finest cultured cluster. Love his record. With such a name as never more. But the raven sitting lonely in that placid bus spoke only that one word. As if his soul in that one word he did

outpour. Nothing further than he had not a feather that he fluttered. To lie scarcely more than modern. Other friends have flown before. On the morrow. He will leave me as my hopes have flown before. Then the bird said nevermore. Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken. Doctor said I what it others is its only stock in store. From some unhappy master whom a merciful disaster followed fast and followed. Pastor. We'll have one virgin boy Philip dirges of his hope the melancholy burden bar of never never more. But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul and a smiling straight. I couldn't see in front of the bird. Virus. Then upon the velvet sinking. I betook myself to linking fancy

under trance thinking what this ominous bird of yore. What this grim ghastly dark and ominous bird of Yar meant in croaking. Never more are. This I said engaged in guessing. But no syllable expressing to the hour whose fiery eyes now burned into my bruises. This in law Rice at divine and. With my head reclining on the cushions velvet lining. At the lamplight. But whose. Bell The violet blended with the lamplight. I'll. Never know. Then. We thought the air grew denser perfume from an unseen sensor swung by Sarah. Whose foot falls on the top floor. Right. Right.

My God had sent the respite respite and the pent people my memories of. This kind of pen. And forget this last line are. The Raven nevermore. Prophets and I think of evil still averted. Whether tempered their sense of whether Tempest. On this desert land and chatted on this home by horror haunted. Tell me more is there. Tell me. Tell me I am. Never more. Prophet said I think. Probably still in. Heaven that. Bends above us. In the distant.

Past namely nor. Nevermore. That word our sign apart back into the temple. Raven. Never more. And the raven. Never living. Still if City.

Is. Sitting. On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door. And his. Eyes have always seen me over. It is dreaming. And the lamplight are his dreaming throws the shadow on the floor. And my soul from out that shadow. That lies floating on the floor. While being lifted. Nevermore. The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe's music read on give us a play for us by the NBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Dr. Roy Sheffield with Nelson Armstead as narrator. Personally my own ambition is to record it someday with that as narrator. That last line incidentally is not a side heaving desperation of one who wants each of you to

start a special subscription found or anything like that. It just sort of stuff that I really would like to have a permanent recording of Mr Armstead and the artistry of his reading of a great poem next. Music for hire band playing the solo part is one of the world's great harvest that would veto the occasion was they were a premiere performance and a blast with theatre New York City and on the stage the NBC symphony on the podium the composer done give us many. I had just finished saying and it would be to a play's the world premiere performance of the Rhapsody for harp and orchestra and I gave the downbeat and this is what our studio and radio audience heard. Hey.

You. Know. Thank you. Was.

For it. The applause you heard was for real that is it was part of the actual applause for the world premiere performance of the Rhapsody for harp and orchestra played by the NBC symphony with Ed would be to us all of us. And as I recall it was a great day for its composer Don give us to end with a performance of the harp Rhapsody we've come to the end of this week's visit. Joy of joys We'll be back again next week to bolster up the kill cycle cool of the national educational radio network. As we bring you 30 minutes more of music and chatter which will result in your hearing the Rhapsody for the Lone Star and the Symphony Number 8 subtitled A dance symphony two weeks from now I will have a bunch of stuff to play for you the cycle of metrics overture for instance toe tapping tune called foot in it all up will present a repeat of a left handed lecturer I once did

called music to be answered on by so do be with us won't you. Until next week then this is John Geer was thanking the national educational radio network for the use of their affiliated stations and saying good bye to you from the music division of the School of the arts at Southern Methodist University whose premises these programs originated. So long. This program was distributed by national educational radio. This is the National Education already or network.