THE MUSICIANS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 11684, 28 April 1916, Page 4

THE MUSICIANS.

" I know a good many professional musicians who ought to be interned." —Mr Ycrbrugghen, Sydney Conservatorium Director. When England had her civil war The daisies all grew ruady; America shed later gore And made Virginia muddy; But those ensanguined inoidents Which might make me or you sick, Were nothing to the fierce events When fights arise in music. When two deep trombones shock the air No mercy can be given Till one of the unhappy panIn ragged halves is riven. First violins will lie in wait For second-fiddle rivals, And from their duels full of hate There can be no survivals. A man may have a peaceful mind, Unused to crime and ravage, But once to music grown inclined He is a ruthless savage. A trifling point ahotit the pitch You play a fugue or mas 3 in Will make his murderous fingers itch— He'll end as an assassin. Yerbrugghen -would intern all such As bow not to his baton; 'Twould not displease him overmuch If worms on them should fatten. He'd put a razor to their throat Nor*use it like a bai*ber, Or lure them to some spot remote And drown them in the harbour. Bill Shakespeare said—it was a joke— That stratagem and treason Were found in unaesthetic folk ! That's rhyme, but far from reason. For murder, hate, complot and crime And all those dread conditions Flourish most freely, every time. 'Mid genuine musicians. —Sydney "Sun."