United States or Sierra Leone ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Never laureate sang in strains more solemn and tender. But from this moment on the tenor of David's life was boisterous and broken. He was constantly at war, now war that was defensive only, again war that was fiercely aggressive. He had to face internal dissensions.
Then, suddenly changing to a gayer measure, she sang, with remarkable sweetness and flexibility of voice: "While our rosy fillets shed Blushes o'er each fervid head, With many a cup, and many a smile, The festal moments we beguile.
The water rilled in the winding creek, the birds carolled in the trees; but above all rose the sound of light laughter and sweet strong voices. They took their dinner behind the arches, at a table the length of the corridor, and two of the young men played the guitar and sang, whilst the others delighted their keen palates with the goods the padre had provided.
So she sang an air that I knew not, yet methought it wondrous sweet; anon she breaks off, all at once, and falls to the song I had heard her sing before now, viz.: "A poor soul sat sighing by a green willow tree." But for this, I too might have been happy perchance and with a hope of greater happiness to be."
At length, after becoming tired, there was the return home an hour before nightfall. And now the little fellows tripped along; thirty fagot bundles were carried on thirty heads; and the thirty sang, as on setting out, the same carol, with the same refrain.
There were all the regular sounds of the house. The distant closing of doors, deep down in the heart of the house someone was using a sewing machine somewhere, voices came up out of the void and faded again, someone whistled, someone sang. His gloom increased.
I have never seen such an effect in our own land, and only once subsequently here. There was a ball that night, and we were all going. While we were at dinner, the waits came in and sang in the hallway just as in merry England they sing under the window. But if the English waits sing as badly as the Filipino ones, then the poetry of the wait songs is gone from me forever.
At the games, among the Gang on the bleachers, Carl went mad with fervor. He kept shooting to his feet, and believed that he was saving his country every time he yelled in obedience to the St. Vitus gestures of the cheer-leader, or sang "On the Goal-line of Plato" to the tune of "On the Sidewalks of New York."
"My Baron looked at me queerly, but he listened to reason, and I didn't have to go to the Mamsell again because he went himself. And then he made friends with Mamsell Manon, and she came over and brought the King's wine herself. When I knew her better she wasn't bad; she laughed a good deal, and sang all the time like a little bird, but one can't go against nature.
They passed out of the focus of my observation into their several forms in which they walk through common life. Putting on their opera-cloaks, their paletots, they put on, for me, that mark that hides the inner life, and the veil that conceals all hidden passions. It is said that there is, no longer, romance in real life. But the truth is that we live the romance that former ages told and sang.
Word Of The Day