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Updated: June 11, 2025
"He shall daily joy dispense Hid in song's sweet influence." Emerson's Merlin. Lyddy had very few callers during her first month as a property owner in Edgewood. Her appearance would have been against her winning friends easily in any case, even if she had not acquired the habits of a recluse. It took a certain amount of time, too, for the community to get used to the fact that old Mrs.
Even Marcella Eubanks seemed for once to have soared above mere principle into the unmoral realm of "Art for Art's sake." But it falls to be said, and I say it with a pride which I think should not excite cavil, that Miss Caroline frowned splendidly from the first moment that the song's true character was revealed.
Murmuring forth her love; And as she flew from tree to tree, How melting seemed the notes to me Coo! Coo! Coo! So like the voice of lovers, 'T was passing sweet to hear The birds within the covers, In the spring-time of the year. "Coo! Coo! Coo! Coo! Thus the song's returned again Coo! Coo! Coo! Through the shady glen; But there I wandered lone and sad, While every bird around was glad. Coo! Coo!
The Angels of Wind and of Fire Chant only one hymn, and expire With the song's irresistible stress, Expire in their rapture and wonder, As harp-strings are broken asunder By music they throb to express.
The recitation vivid, accompanied by the direct, expressive gesture for which Mademoiselle de Bonvouloir was so famous was followed at appropriate intervals by one or two items of instrumental music, and then Diana found herself mounting the little platform, and a hush descended anew upon the throng of people, the last eager chatterers twittering into silence as Olga Lermontof struck the first note of the song's prelude.
It's nat'ral an' proper, Ruby, that you an' Minnie and your mother should wish to live together; as the old song says, `Birds of a feather flock together, an' the old song's right; and as the thing ought to be, an' you all want it to be, so it shall be.
His face clouded over: he drew a little back from the circle, and took no further part in the conversation, which was wholly maintained, for some minutes, by Lady Muriel and her lively cousin, who were discussing some new music that had just arrived from London. "Do just try this one!" he pleaded. "The music looks easy to sing at sight, and the song's quite appropriate to the occasion."
"With softly modulated voice that had the rhythm of music and the hush of veneration in it, he quoted: "'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want." "There is the opening strain of its music; in that chord is sounded the keynote which is never lost till the plaintive melody dies away at the song's end. All that follows is that thought put in varying light."
We don't want problems to make us more bitter against the world than we get sometimes." And here's a han' my trusty frien', An' gie's a han' o' thine, We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet For Auld Lang Syne. "And that song's the answer of all problems," said Mitchell. But it was I who lay awake and thought that night. The Australian swag fashion is the easiest way in the world of carrying a load.
"But how may I come to him, grandmother?" "Oh, as to that, it does not matter at all which road you follow. All highways, as the saying is, lead roundabout to Koshchei. The one thing needful is not to stand still. This much I will tell you also for your song's sake, because that was an excellent song, and nobody ever made a song in praise of me before to-day."
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