SONG CYCLE, ' DIE SCHÖNE MÜLLERIN' (' THE Fair MAID OF THE MILL 'and other Songs by SCHUBERT
Sung by ROGER CLAYSON (Tenor) rpONIGHT and on the three nights following wo are to hear one of Schubert's most famous works-the cycle of twenty songs which he entitled, Die Schöne Mullerin (The Fair Maid of the Mill). It comprises twenty songs which the composer selected from a set of poems, the Miillerlieder, by Wilhelm Miiller. In it we follow the fortunes of a miller's apprentice, who wanders off to seek a new master, following the course of a winding brook, to which he confides his thoughts. He finds his new work in a mill to which the brook leads him, and falls in love with the miller's daughter. He thinks he has won her, but she gives her love to a forest ranger, and the poor miller-lad, broken-hearted, seeks rest from his grief beneath the waters of the mill-stream, his one constant friend.
The first song is Da8 Wandern (Wandering).
The 'prentice wants to go off a-wandering, to see the world, and we hear how cheerfully ho strides out on his way.
Wohin? (Whither?) He speaks to the brooklet beside which he takes his way. ' You will find your mill to turn, some day,' is his reflection, and I'll find my work waiting for me, too.' In our third song, having come to a mill, and seen the miller's lovely daughter, he thanks the friendly brooklet that has led him.
Halt. He comes to a mill, and welcomes the familiar, happy sight and sound. He asks the brook, ' Was this the place to which you meant to lead me ? '
Danksagung an den Bach (Thanks to the Brook).
He hears the brook babbling of ' the maid of the mill,' and wonders if this unknown maid whispered a word to the stream. Anyhow, here he is, looking forward gaily to his task at the mill.
Am Feierabend (A Holiday Evening). He is not very strong, and wishes ho could show the maiden a giant's strength, and so impress her with his willingness and capacity.
Die Neugierige (The Inquirer). Of course, it is one of the oldest questions-that of the lover who seeks to know if the maiden loves him. The stars and flowers can't tell him. Maybe, tho brook can. No ? ',0 tell me, she does love me ? ' But the brook, for once, is tantalizingly silent.
