He sang of war, and of bold rough deeds, and of love and sorrow.
The sailors, desirous of hearing so famous a musician, consented, and the poet, standing on the deck of the ship, in full minstrel's attire, sang a dirge accompanied by his lyre.
She sang him his favorite songs, showed him her album, making him write in it, did not allow him to allude to the past, letting it be understood how delightful was the present; and every day he went away in a fog, without having said what he meant to, and not knowing what he was doing or why he came, or how it would all end.
After him the other men were called, one by one; and each in turn sang his favorite song.
The official dress of the acolyte, according to Ordo V., was a close-fitting linen garment (camisia) girt about him, a napkin hanging from the left side, a white tunic, a stole (orarium) and a chasuble (planeta) which he took off when he sang on the steps of the ambone.
The woodman sang of the wild forest; the plowman sang of the fields; the shepherd sang of his sheep; and those who listened forgot about the storm and the cold weather.
She sang directly to Sarah and the tears started to flow quickly.
His future eminence as a poet was foretold when a nightingale perched upon his lips and sang (Pliny, Nat.
Originally designed as a perch for fowls which sang to the deities at daybreak, this toni subsequently came to be erroneously regarded as a gateway characteristic of the ShintO shrine.
Among his stories may be mentioned: Les Mysteres du nouveau Paris (1876), Le Demi-Monde sous la Terreur (1877), Les Nuits de Constantinople (1882), Le Cri du sang (1885), La Main froide (1889).