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Updated: May 28, 2025


He avenged himself by planting wayward and alarming desires in Paulo's fertile soul. Suddenly the mission was filled with the sound of clamorous silver: the bells were ringing for vespers a vast, rapid, unrhythmical, sweet volume of sound which made the Devil stamp his hoofs and gnash his teeth.

It is a tremulous moment for the beginner. As we lift the brass cap, we begin to count seconds, by a watch, if we are naturally unrhythmical, by the pulsations in our souls, if we have an intellectual pendulum and escapement. Most persons can keep tolerably even time with a second-hand while it is traversing its circle.

Ovations, now to the living king and now to the dead king, while taking saltatory and musical forms, took also verbal forms, originally spontaneous and irregular, but presently studied and measured; whence, first, the unrhythmical speech of the orator, which under higher emotional excitement grew into the rhythmical speech of the priest poet, chanting verses verses that finally became established hymns of praise.

Rackingly above the crash and lilt of music, the quick, wild thud of dancing feet, the sharp, staccato notes of laughter she heard the dull, heavy, unrhythmical tread of the oncoming years gray years, limping eternally from to-morrow on, through unloved lands, on unloved errands. "This is the end of youth. It is it is it is," whimpered her heart.

He talked rather than sang, but always in tune and with the clearest enunciation, and any amount of experience. He began merrily, and in no time had us both laughing; I think the first air which he tortured to fit his unrhymed and unrhythmical words belonged once to Mozart, but I am not sure. It was made out of merriness, sunshine, and dew.

Now, Moro music is strangely unrhythmical to European ears, consisting as it does of a monotonous reiteration of sound, even a supposed change of air being almost imperceptible to one unaccustomed to the barbarous lack of tone. The Moro piano is a wooden frame, shaped like the runners of a child's sled, on which are balanced small kettle-drums by means of cords and sticks.

With his long hind legs, spurred and laced with red, he stamps with impatience and kicks out at nothing. Emotion renders him silent. His wing-covers are nevertheless in rapid motion, but are no longer sounding, or at most emit but an unrhythmical rubbing sound. Presumptuous declaration!

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