@edgarblythe,
He does, no?
Ah that Scottish Donovan. Little Boy in Corduroy reminds me of so many little boys that wore that fabric.
Time for me to say goodnight, and I think that I shall do so with two songs.
First a new man on the scene.
About Hilary Stagg 1957 ~ 1999
With a high school band sousaphone background, Hilary Stagg (named for Sir Edmund Hillary, the famous mountaineer) was an electrician when in his mid-twenties he attended an Andreas Vollenweider concert. He was enthralled, and so inspired that he purchased a small harp. It was a delightful challenge for him to use his knowledge as an electrician in amplifying the instrument and his custom amplification was superb. He tried formal lessons but quickly decided he would learn to play the harp a different way. Hilary believed in and practiced lucid dreaming and developed a way of dancing with the Muse in his dreams, a way of exploring and composing music in his “sleep” that became the core of his compositions. As he experimented, Hilary developed a gentle, yet powerful, melodic style that gave new meaning to soothing and relaxing music. He began performing regularly, refining his technique and confidence. The results of his labor and dedication can be heard on seven titles for Real Music, Beyond the Horizon, Feather Light, Dream Spiral, The Edge of Forever, Winter Magic (Christmas selections), Sweet Return and finally, Hilary Stagg ~ A Tribute.
Hilary died suddenly after a brief illness in June 1999. His music is our gift, ready to comfort and uplift at the touch of a button.
His beautiful harp song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Hr8tZx_cXo&feature=related
Now, an instrumental version of Schubert's Serenade with lyrics.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZpA0l2WB86E&feature=related
Through the leaves the night-winds moving,
Murmur low and sweet!
To thy chamber window roving,
Love hath led my feet.
Silent prayers of blissful feeling,
Link us though apart,
On the breath of music stealing,
To thy dreaming heart.
Moonlight on the earth is sleeping,
Winds are rustling low;
Where the darkling streams are creeping,
Dearest, let us go.
All the stars keep watch in heaven,
While I sing to thee,
And the light for love was given,
Dearest, come to me.
Sadly in the forest mourning,
Wails the whippoorwill,
And the heart for thee is yearning,
Bid it, love, be still.
Today London, tomorrow the world (I hope)
From Letty with love to the kids who just left and to you all.
