A moment later, still clutching Dick's comforting card, she ran in on the stage, swinging her sun-bonnet from its green ribbons with hoydenish grace, chanting a gay little lilt of an Irish melody.

" There was an interrogative lilt at the end of all his sentences, even when, as now, he was making statements that admitted of no denial.

The music took on an irresistible lilt; the feet of the listeners itched to join in the measure and tapped out the time involuntarily.

The careless note in their voices, the jovial lilt of their song, made her envious.

A moment later, still clutching Dick's comforting card, she ran in on the stage, swinging her sun-bonnet from its green ribbons with hoydenish grace, chanting a gay little lilt of an Irish melody.

All this, coupled with the fact that your Italian is a natural-born hater, may indicate that the life of Mary Gowd had not the lyric lilt that life is commonly reputed to have in sunny Italy.

As I went I remember that always a little ahead I seemed to hear the merry lilt of Ringan's whistling.

Even if we accept Steevens's "whereon" instead of "where" in the first verse of this exquisite piece of melody, and read (as Mr. White does not) "I know a bank whereon the wild thyme grows," it leaves the peculiar lilt of the metre unchanged.

We could just make out the shadowy shapes of the men, but their feet made a noise like thunderclaps, and they sang a German marching song with a splendid lilt and swing to it.

Hence the later Scottish song-writers seldom really sing; their proses want the unconscious lilt and flash of their old models; they will hardly go (the true test of a song) without music.