My piano is to me what his boat is to the seaman, what his horse is to the Arab: nay more, it has been till now my eye, my speech, my life. Its strings have vibrated under my passions, and its yielding keys have obeyed my every caprice.
My piano is to me what his boat is to the seaman, what his horse is to the Arab: nay more, it has been till now my eye, my speech, my life. Its strings have vibrated under my passions, and its yielding keys have obeyed my every caprice.