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Guarda che bianca luna Il tempo passato Lascia ch' io pianga Dolce far niente Batti batti nel Masetto Da capo Ritardando Andante Piano Adagio Spaghetti Macaroni Polenta Non e ver Ah, non giunge Si la stanchezza Bravo Lento Presto Scherzo Dormi pura La ci darem la mano Celeste Aida Spirito gentil Voi che sapete Crispino e la Comare Pieta, Signore Tintoretto Boccaccio Garibaldi Mazzini Beatrice Cenci Gordigiani Santa Lucia Il mio tesoro Margherita Umberto Vittoria Colonna -Tutti frutti Botticelli Una furtiva lagrima.
Au premier moment, elle a ete fort ebranlee par cet accident. Mon medecin une fois arrive, elle s'est remise; elle a eu un peu de fievre cette nuit; mais elle a dormi, et elle est assez bien ce matin, presque sans souffrance de son bras. J'espere qu'elle se remettra promptement; mais je n'ai pas voulu que vous ignorassiez la cause de la prolongation de son absence.
She never attained "good-morning," but she more than supplied the deficiency of English speech by the grace of her French manners, always entering my room at 8 A.M. as I lay in bed, with the greeting, "Bon matin, M'sieu', avez-vous bien dormi?" Perhaps I looked, as I felt, embarrassed on the first occasion, for she quickly added in French, "I am old enough to be your mother" as indeed she was.
Interpositis enim paucis diebus, cum similis casus nos in eandem fortunam rettulisset, ut intellexi stertere patrem, rogare coepi ephebum, ut reverteretur in gratiam mecum, id est ut pateretur satis fieri sibi, et cetera quae libido distenta dictat. At ille plane iratus nihil aliud dicebat nisi hoc: 'aut dormi, aut ego iam dicam patri. Nihil est tam arduum, quod non improbitas extorqueat.
Her Cradle Song is as good as anything of hers I know, though I could wish she had omitted the parenthetical refrain. I hope readers will forgive me though I know they won't for saying that Dormi, dormi tu sounds a triumphant exclamation at the sixteenth hole.
A pile-driver, and if he had landed on my jaw, it would have been dormi bene, as you say when you bid me good night in dago. That's all right now until to-morrow. I want to talk to you. Draw up a chair. There! As I said, I've never caught you in a lie, but I find that you've been living a lie for two years.
Nous avons trop dormi!" The wise virgins refuse the oil and bid their foolish sisters to go and buy it. All the strophes change the melody at each change of personages. The little drama comes to its end with the intervention of Christ, who condemns the foolish virgins. The words of the Savior have no music.
After La Luna Nova they sang Fra i rami, fulgida, and Vedi, che bianca Luna, and Dormi pure, all things she particularly liked. The voices struck her as being nearer than the garden railing; she thought the singers must have found the carriage gate open and slipped in without noise. She bent forth a little, and as she could not see them imagined them standing among the shrubs.
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