- Glass, Philip
Opera on the Beach. On His New World of Opera Theater.
Faber, London, 1988, Trade Paperback, , , Very Good /
xvii, 222 pp.,  pp. of plates : illus. (some color), music, portraits. Some wear to wraps, else a very good octavo. Contents: Introduction; Apprenticeship of sorts, Paris, Soho; Einstein on the Beach, the music, the libretto; Satyagraha, the music, the libretto, Akhnaten, the music, the libretto; Some other music; Music catalog; Discography; Index.
Collection Summary Creator: Schoolcraft, Henry Rowe, 1793-1864 Title: Papers of Henry Rowe Schoolcraft 1788-1941 (bulk 1820-1856) Size: 25,000 items; 90 containers plus 1 oversize; 28 linear feet; 69 microfilm reels Repository: Manuscript Division, Library of Congress Abstract: Author, ethnologist, explorer, geologist, glass manufacturer, and Indian agent. Correspondence, journals, articles, books, manuscripts of magazines, poetry, speeches, government reports, Indian vocabularies, maps, drawings, and other papers reflecting Schoolcraft's career as a glass manufacturer, mineralogist on an exploring expedition in the Ozark Mountains, geologist on the Cass expedition to the Northwest Territory, leader of expeditions throughout the Great Lakes region, member of Michigan's legislative council, Indian agent, superintendent of Indian affairs for Michigan, ethnologist, and author of works concerning the Iroquois of New York state and other Indians of North America.
Once more the Heavenly Power Makes all things new, And domes the red-plowed hills With loving blue; The blackbirds have their wills, The throstles too. Opens a door in Heaven; From skies of glass A Jacob's ladder falls On greening grass, And o'er the mountain-walls Young angels pass. Before them fleets the shower, And burst the buds, And shine the level lands, And flash the floods; The stars are from their hands Flung through the woods, The woods with living airs How softly fanned, Light airs from where the deep, All down the sand, Is breathing in his sleep, Heard by the land. O, follow, leaping blood, The season's lure! O heart, look down and up, Serene, secure, Warm as the crocus cup, Like snow-drops, pure! Past, Future glimpse and fade Through some slight spell, A gleam from yonder vale, Some far blue fell; And sympathies, how frail, In sound and smell! Till at thy chuckled note, Thou twinkling bird, The fairy fancies range, And, lightly stirred, Ring little bells of change From word to word. For now the Heavenly Power Makes all things new, And thaws the cold, and fills The flower with dew; The blackbirds have their wills, The poets too.Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892]