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The room in which I stood seemed transformed into what it never could be, and the old piano shed its discord and was glorified by the marvellous playing of the negro. The foolish little song runs along for several stanzas, simulating the sound of dancing feet. Alternately the negro sang the air and whistled the chorus, but whether he did one or the other, the effect was the same.
Joy is within our reach, a golden rose on the tree of life, and it is for you to gather it or to hold your hand. Don't answer me yet for God's sake. Wait!" He went to the piano and opened it. Rain ... rain dripping on the roof through the long hours of night, and the weary moaning of the wakeful wind.
Alice set the lamp on the top of the cottage piano that stood slantwise in a side window beyond the fireplace. She had pulled back the muslin curtains and opened both windows wide so that the room was now bared to the south and west. Then, with the abrupt and passionate gesture of desire deferred, she sat down at the little worn-out Erard and began to play.
He never let me go to balls, as he judged I could use my strength for more important things than dancing; but he always let me go to good operas. In many free hours I used to grow enthusiastic over piano arrangements of operas and other music. One cannot do that when one is tired out. Besides that, I had, even in earliest youth, intercourse with the most distinguished artists.
There was quite a long silence, but as we did not hear him moving about, he probably sat on at the piano, for presently, in a whisper, you may say, more to himself than to us, he sang that Scotch song, "Turn ye to me," which to my ear at least stands a head and shoulders taller and lovelier than any folk song in all the world, unless it's that Norman sailor song that Chopin used in one of the Nocturnes.
He went straight to the piano, and seated himself near Clarissa, almost with the air of having a right to take that place. "Pray go on playing," he said; "that seems very pretty music. I am no judge, and I don't pretend to care for that classical music which every one talks about nowadays, but I know what pleases me." The evening was not an especially gay one; but it seemed pleasant enough to Mr.
He has written excellent music in all styles the Grecian style, and that of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. His compositions are of every kind: masses, grand operas, light operas, cantatas, symphonies, symphonic poems; music for the orchestra, the organ, the piano, the voice, and chamber music.
"The piano is such a revealer of character; I need only to hear a person play to know what sort of character he has. If one is inclined to much careful detail in everything, it comes out in the playing.
He had rather too bright a complexion, and rather too large a sandy mustache, but his clothes fitted him, and he seemed to be at ease as he glanced about him and waited in the doorway for the young lady at the piano to finish. While the faint applause was still sounding he entered with Mrs. Roberts, moving slowly across the room. "And now!" thought Helen, "now for it!"
There were several cases in which the bread granaries belonging to certain hoarders were broken into. Sonya's mother was asked to play something. She refused a long time, but finally, with evident pleasure, went to the grand piano, and played a selection from Grieg. Then the notary took his turn at the instrument.
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