The tall Musician walked the room
With folded arms and gleaming eyes,
As if he saw the Vikings rise,
Gigantic shadows in the gloom;
And much he talked of their emprise,
And meteors seen in northern skies,
And Heimdal’s horn and day of doom.
* * * * *
Then in the silence that ensued
Was heard a sharp and sudden sound
As of a bowstring snapped in air;
And the Musician with a bound
Sprang up in terror from his chair,
And for a moment listening stood,
Then strode across the room, and found
His dear, his darling violin
Still lying safe asleep within
Its little cradle, like a child
That gives a sudden cry of pain,
And wakes to fall asleep again;
And as he looked at it and smiled,
By the uncertain light beguiled,
Despair! two strings were broken in twain.
The future held for Ole Bull the rare fortune of being for one happy
winter the neighbor of Mr. Longfellow.
Lingering as long as possible till there was but the shortest time to
meet appointments, Ole Bull sailed from Norway in the fall of 1878 for
the United States. So far as concerts were concerned, there is but the
same story of a cordial reception by the public and a pleasant winter.
A few brief extracts from the many notices in the journals will suffice.
He played in the principal Northern cities only.