once. Poetry cannot adapt itself to music, because its
mood is already established. It is the business of the composer to
create music which will supplement the poem. A lullaby should not have a
martial melody, neither should an exhortation to lofty patriotism be
given a melody which induces somnolence.

The same sense of fitness must obtain in the accompaniment. The office
of the accompaniment is not merely to keep the singer on the pitch. It
must help to tell the story by strengthening the mood of the poem. It
must not be trivial or insincere, neither must it overwhelm and thus
draw the attention of the listeners to itself and away from the singer.

The accompaniment is the clothing, or dress, of the melody. Melodies,
like people, should be well dressed but not over dressed. Some melodies,
like some people, look better in plain clothes than in a fancy costume.
Other melodies appear to advantage in a rich costume. Modern songwriters
are much inclined to overdress their melodies to the extent that the
accompaniment forces itself upon the attention to the exclusion of the
melody. Such writing is as incongruous as putting on a dress suit to go
to a fire.

The significance of the theme should indicate the nature of the
accompaniment. To take a simple sentiment and overload it with a modern
complex harmonic accompaniment is like going after sparrows with a
sixteen inch siege gun.

Comedy in the song should not be associated with tragedy in the
accompaniment. A lively poem should not have a lazy accompaniment. The
great songwriters were models in this respect. This accounts for their
greatness. Take for example Schubert's _Wohin_ and _Der Wanderer_,
Schumann's _Der Nussbaum_, Brahms' _Feldeinsamkeit_. These
accompaniments are as full of mood as either poem or melody.

The element of proportion enters into songwriting no less than into
architecture. A house fifteen by twenty feet with a tower sixty feet
high and a veranda thirty feet wide would be out of proportion. A song
with sixty-four measures of introduction and sixteen measures for the
voice would be out of proportion. Making a song is similar to painting a
landscape. In the painting the grass, flowers, shrubbery etc., are in
the foreground, then come the hills and if there be a mountain range it
is in the background. If the mountain range were in the foreground it
would obscure everything else. So in making a song. If it tells a story
and reaches a climax the cli