cturne (Op. 9, No. 2) had a different
form. But the composer very frequently altered the ornamentions of his
pieces or excogitated alternative readings.]

The third is, like the preceding nocturne, exquisite salon music. Little
is said, but that little very prettily. Although the atmosphere is
close, impregnated with musk and other perfumes, there is here no
affectation. The concluding cadenza, that twirling line, reads plainly
"Frederic Chopin." Op. 15 shows a higher degree of independence and
poetic power than Op. 9. The third (in G minor) of these nocturnes is
the finest of the three. The words languido e rubato describe well the
wavering pensiveness of the first portion of the nocturne, which finds
its expression in the indecision of the melodic progressions, harmonies,
and modulations. The second section is marked religiose, and may be
characterised as a trustful prayer, conducive to calm and comfort. The
Nocturnes in F major and F sharp major, Op. 15, are more passionate than
the one we just now considered, at least in the middle sections. The
serene, tender Andante in F major, always sweet, and here and there with
touches of delicate playfulness, is interrupted by thoughts of impetuous
defiance, which give way to sobs and sighs, start up again with equal
violence, and at last die away into the first sweet, tender serenity.
The contrast between the languid dreaming and the fiery upstarting
is striking and effective, and the practical musician, as well as the
student of aesthetics, will do well to examine by what means these
various effects are produced. In the second nocturne, F sharp major,
the brightness and warmth of the world without have penetrated into the
world within. The fioriture flit about as lightly as gossamer threads.
The sweetly-sad longing of the first section becomes more disquieting
in the doppio movimento, but the beneficial influence of the sun never
quite loses its power, and after a little there is a relapse into the
calmer mood, with a close like a hazy distance on a summer day. The
second (in D flat major) of Op. 27 was, no doubt, conceived in a more
auspicious moment than the first (in C sharp minor), of which the
extravagantly wide-meshed netting of the accompaniment is the most
noteworthy feature. [FOOTNOTE: In most of the pieces where, as in this
one, the left-hand accompaniment consists of an undulating figure,
Chopin wished it to be played very soft and subdued. This is what
Gutmann s