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Beneath the bare apple-tree boughs in Harold Thornton's yard, Charlie, Eddie, and little Phil sang, "We three kings of Orient are," while the others joined in the chorus. At the song's close, the superintendent, swifter of foot than the pastor, overtook them with a great box of candy. Tears came into the eyes of Mrs.
To the City Hotel came Morris again with Dana, Cooper, and his friend, Samuel Woodworth, author of "The Old Oaken Bucket" to plan "The Mirror," in 1823. The story of the old song's writing is: At noon on a summer's day in 1817 Woodworth, whose pen-name was "Selim," walked home to dinner from his office at the foot of Wall Street.
Hilary seized a vanishing hand, kissed it madly, and would have loosed it, but it clung till his limy knuckles went out and down and her lips sealed on them the distant song's fourth line as just then it came: "De ladies loves de ladies' man!" As mistress and maid passed in sight of the dark singer he hurried to them, wearing the bucket of water on his turban as lightly as a hat.
His name was Heidrek, and he has set all that he saw with Havelok into a saga; but we, here, mostly remember the brave waking that he gave us that morning. It was wonderful how the bright song cheered us. One saw that the stiffened limbs shook themselves into litheness once more, and the listless faces brightened, and into the hearts that were heavy came new hope, and that was the song's work.
She did not sing quite so steadily, but got through in good form, the tremolo of nervousness in her voice adding to the wailing pathos of the song's refrain: Adé, adé, adé, such dreams must pass away, But the Blue Alsatian Mountains seem to watch and wait alway. The crowd clapped, stamped, whistled, shouted; but Burlingham defied it. "The lady will sing again later," he cried.
She seemed scarcely to move or to breathe till the song's completion; then there came a low "Oh, how beautiful!" through her parted lips. Bertram, looking at her, was conscious of a vague irritation. "Arkwright, you're a lucky dog," he declared almost crossly. "I wish I could sing like that!" "I wish I could paint a 'Face of a Girl," smiled the tenor as he turned from the piano. "Oh, but, Mr.
All his notes are call-notes, and are addressed directly to his mate. The songbirds take up a position and lift up their voices and sing. It is a deliberate musical performance, as much so as that of Nilsson or Patti. The bluebird, however, never strikes an attitude and sings for the mere song's sake.
I said I would teach her when I came again to Denmark. One evening, I sang the German song you have heard me sing so often, and I turned round suddenly and saw her face; she looked at me as if she loved me with all her heart, but possibly so simple a nature as hers was carried away by the song's influence. I turned away my face, that it might reflect nothing to her."
But above the mist the lark was singing joyously, singing for the song's sake, and the melody went down into his heart and preached him a better sermon than he was ever likely to write. Listening to it, he reached, before he was aware, the great gates of the Court. Mrs. Burrell was at home, and he sent a request for an interview.
But always, after a song's accompaniment has been arranged for the orchestra, I'll listen carefully at a rehearsal, and often I can pick out weak spots and mak' suggestions that seem to work an improvement. I've a lot of trouble, sometimes, wi' the players, till they get sae that they ken the way I like my accompaniment tae be. But after that we aye get alang fine together, the orchestra and me.
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