TO OUR WOULD-BE PIANISTS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 18, 30 April 1892, Page 462

TO OUR WOULD-BE PIANISTS.

Pity the sorrows of a poor young man, Who seeks to live in quietness up a stair ; Look at his quivering nerves and visage wan, The image and the picture of despair.

• Why is this thus F you ask ; * what dreadful curse Has fallen with withering blight on this young man, O! Does sickness waste his health, or want ¥ Ah ! worse— Unhappy victim of the fiend Piano I

From early morn till night, from night till morn, The rattling pandemonium rages ever. Till life of every happiness is shorn, And woe suggests the bottom of a river.

On one side thunder Hemy’s Exercises, Kerr’s Scottish Gems are murdered on the other ; Above, below, behind, are fresh surprises, Tis needless to attempt the sound to smother. In helpless agony, our young roan throws His wearied head upon a fevered pillow ; But all can not avail to ease his woes, Again he thinks upon the heaving billow.

Oh, when will all this fearful uproar cease ? Conf >nnd, say I, this style of music culture, That will not let a fellow live in peace, But preys upon bis vitals like a vulture !