n a new meditation on bits of the first Allegro theme sounds suddenly a
fitful burst of the second, that presently emerges in triumphant,
sovereign song. Again, on a series of flights the main theme is reached
and leaps once more to impassioned height.

But this is followed by a still greater climax of moving pathos whence
we descend once more to lyric meditation (over trembling strings).
Follows a final tempest and climax of the phrase of second theme.

The movement thus ends, not in joyous exultation, but in a fierce
triumph of sombre minor.

The Andante is purest folk-melody, and it is strange how we know this,
though we do not know the special theme. We cannot decry the
race-element as a rich fount of melody. While older nations strive and
strain, it pours forth by some mystery in prodigal flow with less
tutored peoples who are singing their first big song to the world. Only,
the ultimate goal for each racial inspiration must be a greater
universal celebration.

The lyric mood is regnant here, in a melody that, springing from distant
soil, speaks straight to every heart, above all with the concluding
refrain. It is of the purest vein, of the primal fount, deeper than mere
racial turn or trait. Moreover, with a whole coronet of gems of modern
harmony, it has a broad swing and curve that gives the soothing sense of
fireside;

[Music: _Andante ma non troppo lento_
(Muted violins)
(Sustained horns and basses with lower 8ve.; constant stroke of harp)
(Clarinets)]

it bears a burden of elemental, all-contenting emotion. In the main, the
whole movement is one lyric flight. But there come the moods of musing
and rhapsodic rapture. In a brief fugal vein is a mystic harking back to
the earlier prelude. In these lesser phrases are the foil or
counter-figures for the bursts of the melody.

It is the first motive of the main tune that is the refrain in ever
higher and more fervent exclamation, or in close pressing chase of
voices. Then follows a melting episode,--some golden piece of the melody
in plaintive cellos, 'neath tremulous wood or delicate choirs of
strings.

But there is a second tune, hardly less moving, in dulcet group of
horns amid shimmering strings and harp, with a light bucolic answer in
playful reed.

[Music: _Molto tranquillo_
(Violins)
_dolce_ (Horns)
(With arpeggic harp)]

And it has a glowing climax, too, with fiery trumpet, and dashing
strings and clashing wood.

Gorgeous in the warm dept