Post by Margaret Fitzalan on Feb 3, 2008 5:25:04 GMT -5
With the impending move to yet another court, she had packed her belongings in preperation as well as writing and sending a new letter to her father to keep him abreast of her present situation and what she's experienced so far.
Once all had been completed, it was when her eyes rested upon one of her prized possessions. The rose wood fiddle that rested upon the table awaiting her attention. Slowly a smile inched upon her lips as she moved to where it rested. Reaching out, fingers would slowly and lightly glide over the bees wax polished wood with a lovers like caress.
Usually she'd escape to the roof top, or out into the forest when she felt the need and want to play. Not tonight, instead the instrument would be lifted to be set into place and the horsehair strung bow to be collected in opposite hand.
It was without thought in which the bow was lifted to be drawn over the fiddle's strings. The first chord is what lead to that of the next and continued into the haunting melody now being played. The melody started out soft and light, the instrument this night would not make feet wish to dance about the room, but remain planted in place.
Eyes would close and her body would begin to slowly sway as she put full concentration within the piece. It could almost be said that you could feel the sorrow the music contained, the way it vibrated within the confines of your soul.
The room was nearly accustically perfect, the way the sounds echo'd slightly off the stone walls, only adding to that haunting quality the music held, as well as giving it depth.
Any who passed her room during this time, or was within hearing distance of the music played within, would hear the heartbreak of the Irish ballad, one to become commonly known as "Oh Danny Boy."
Soon the music would be accompanied by the soft voice of the Irish Woman. It wasn't a song to be bellowed out, even though there was a fluctuation of vocular octives to be dealt with.
"Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. "
The music would continue for several moments once the accompaniment of her voice ended. It would be with a slow prolonged note that the music would end and the fiddle would lower. Although she stood there with her eyes closed for a few moments more. The most serene smile upon her lips as she thought back to those times upon the Emerald Isle and those who she cared about that lived there still. A soft sigh as eyes finally opened and the instrument would be set upon the table once more.
Again she'd gaze down at it, fingers to lightly caress the slick surface of wood before she'd turn and walk away.
Once all had been completed, it was when her eyes rested upon one of her prized possessions. The rose wood fiddle that rested upon the table awaiting her attention. Slowly a smile inched upon her lips as she moved to where it rested. Reaching out, fingers would slowly and lightly glide over the bees wax polished wood with a lovers like caress.
Usually she'd escape to the roof top, or out into the forest when she felt the need and want to play. Not tonight, instead the instrument would be lifted to be set into place and the horsehair strung bow to be collected in opposite hand.
It was without thought in which the bow was lifted to be drawn over the fiddle's strings. The first chord is what lead to that of the next and continued into the haunting melody now being played. The melody started out soft and light, the instrument this night would not make feet wish to dance about the room, but remain planted in place.
Eyes would close and her body would begin to slowly sway as she put full concentration within the piece. It could almost be said that you could feel the sorrow the music contained, the way it vibrated within the confines of your soul.
The room was nearly accustically perfect, the way the sounds echo'd slightly off the stone walls, only adding to that haunting quality the music held, as well as giving it depth.
Any who passed her room during this time, or was within hearing distance of the music played within, would hear the heartbreak of the Irish ballad, one to become commonly known as "Oh Danny Boy."
Soon the music would be accompanied by the soft voice of the Irish Woman. It wasn't a song to be bellowed out, even though there was a fluctuation of vocular octives to be dealt with.
"Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. "
The music would continue for several moments once the accompaniment of her voice ended. It would be with a slow prolonged note that the music would end and the fiddle would lower. Although she stood there with her eyes closed for a few moments more. The most serene smile upon her lips as she thought back to those times upon the Emerald Isle and those who she cared about that lived there still. A soft sigh as eyes finally opened and the instrument would be set upon the table once more.
Again she'd gaze down at it, fingers to lightly caress the slick surface of wood before she'd turn and walk away.