Look not thou on beauty’s charming; Sit thou still when kings are arming; Taste not when the wine-cup glistens; Speak not when the people listens; Stop thine ear against the singer; From the red gold keep thy finger; Vacant heart and hand and eye, Easy live and quiet die.
Musical Illustrations of the Waverley Novels
by Eliza Flower (1803 - 1846)
. Lucy Ashton's Song
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), "Lucy Ashton's Song", appears in The Bride of Lammermoor, first published 1819 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Set by by Eliza Flower (1803 - 1846), published 1831? [ chorus and piano ], London : Jos. Alfred NovelloResearcher for this page: Mike Pearson
1. Hail to thee  [sung text not yet checked]
Hail to thee, thou holy herb, That sprung on holy ground! All in the Mount Olivet First wert thou found. Thou art boot for many a bruise, And healest many a wound; In our Lady's blessed name, I take thee from the ground.
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in Waverley
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Rose Bradwardine's Song  [sung text not yet checked]
On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere ye boune ye to rest, Ever beware that your couch be bless'd; Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead, Sing the Ave, and say the Creed. For on Hallow-Mass Eve the Night-Hag will ride, And all her nine-fold sweeping on by her side, Whether the wind sing lowly or loud, Sailing through moonshine or swath'd in the cloud. The Lady she sat in Saint Swithin's Chair, The dew of the night has damp'd her hair: Her cheek was pale; but resolved and high Was the word of her lip and the glance of her eye. She mutter'd the spell of Swithin bold, When his naked foot traced the midnight wold, When he stopp'd the Hag as she rode the night, And bade her descend, and her promise plight. He that dare sit on Saint Swithin's Chair, When the Night-Hag wings the troubled air, Questions three, when he speaks the spell, He may ask, and she must tell. The Baron has been with King Robert his liege These three long years in battle and siege; News are there none of his weal or his woe, And fain the Lady his fate would know. She shudders and stops as the charm she speaks;— Is it the moody owl that shrieks? Or is it that sound, betwixt laughter and scream, The voice of the Demon who haunts the stream? The moan of the wind sunk silent and low, And the roaring torrent had ceased to flow; The calm was more dreadful than raging storm, When the cold grey mist brought the ghastly Form!
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), "Saint Swithin's Chair", appears in Waverley
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. Norman the forester's song  [sung text not yet checked]
The monk must arise when the matins ring, The abbot may sleep to their chime; But the yeoman must start when the bugles sing, 'Tis time, my hearts, 'tis time. There's bucks and raes on Bilhope braes, There's a herd in Shortwood Shaw; But a lily white doe in the garden goes, She's fairly worth them a'.
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in The Bride of Lammermoor
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]5. Meg Merrilies' chant  [sung text not yet checked]
Wasted, weary, wherefore stay, Wrestling thus with earth and clay? From the body pass away; — Hark! the mass is singing. From thee doff thy mortal weed, Mary Mother be thy speed. Saints to help thee at thy need; — Hark! the knell is ringing. Fear not snow-drift driving fast, Sleet, or hail, or levin blast ; Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast, And the sleep be on thee cast That shall ne'er know waking. Haste thee, haste thee, to be gone. Earth flits fast, and time draws on, — Gasp thy gasp, and groan thy groan, Day is near the breaking. Heaven cannot abide it, Earth refuses to hide it. Open lock — end strife, Come death, and pass life.
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in Guy Mannering or The Astrologer
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]6. Louis Kerneguy's song  [sung text not yet checked]
An hour with thee! — When earliest day Dapples with gold the eastern grey, Oh, what, can frame my mind to bear The toil and turmoil, cark and care. New griefs, which coming hours unfold, And sad remembrance of the old? — One hour with thee! One hour with thee! — When burning June Waves his red flag at pitch of noon; What shall repay the faithful swain, His labour on the sultry plain, And more than cave or sheltering bough, Cool feverish blood, and throbbing brow? — One hour with thee! One hour with thee! — When sun is set, O, what can teach me to forget The thankless labours of the day; The hopes, the wishes, flung away: The increasing wants, and lessening gains, The master’s pride, who scorns my pains? — One hour with thee!
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in Woodstock or, The Cavalier
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]7. A health to King Charles  [sung text not yet checked]
Bring the bowl which you boast, Fill it up to the brim; ’Tis to him we love most, And to all who love him. Brave gallants, stand up, And avaunt ye, base carles! Were there death in the cup, Here’s a health to King Charles. Though he wanders through dangers, Unaided, unknown, Dependent on strangers, Estranged from his own; Though ’tis under our breath, Amidst forfeits and perils, Here’s to honor and faith, And a health to King Charles! Let such honors abound As the time can afford, The knee on the ground, And the hand on the sword; But the time shall come round When, ’mid Lords, Dukes, and Earls, The loud trumpet shall sound, Here’s a health to King Charles!
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in Woodstock or, The Cavalier
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]8. Death by Madge Wildfire  [sung text not yet checked]
Our work is over — over now, The goodman wipes his weary brow, The last long wain wends slow away, And we are free to sport and play. The night comes on when sets the sun, And labour ends when day is done. When Autumn's gone and Winter's come, We hold our jovial harvest-home.
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in The Heart of Midlothian
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]9. Rebecca's hymn  [sung text not yet checked]
When Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out of the land of bondage came, Her father’s God before her moved, An awful guide, in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonish’d lands The cloudy pillar glided slow; By night, Arabia’s crimson’d sands Return’d the fiery column’s glow. There rose the choral hymn of praise, And trump and timbrel answer’d keen, And Zion’s daughters pour’d their lays, With priest’s and warrior’s voice between. No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone; Our fathers would not know THY ways, And THOU hast left them to their own. But, present still, though now unseen; When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of THEE a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And oh, when stoops on Judah’s path In shade and storm the frequent night, Be THOU, long-suffering, slow to wrath, A burning, and a shining light! Our harps we left by Babel’s streams, The tyrant’s jest, the Gentile’s scorn; No censer round our altar beams, And mute our timbrel, trump, and horn. But THOU hast said, the blood of goat, The flesh of rams, I will not prize; A contrite heart, and humble thought, Are mine accepted sacrifice.
Authorship:
- by Bible or other Sacred Texts , no title
- sometimes misattributed to Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832)
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Note: as quoted in Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
10. Friar Tuck's song and chorus  [sung text not yet checked]
Come, trowl the brown bowl to me, Bully boy, bully boy, Come, trowl the brown bowl to me: Ho! jolly Jenkin, I spy a knave in drinking, Come, trowl the brown bowl to me.
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in Ivanhoe
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]11. Annot Lyle's song  [sung text not yet checked]
Wert thou like me in life's low vale, With thee, how blest! that [life]1 I'd share: With thee I'd fly [as far as]2 gale Could waft, or [swelling ocean]3 bear. But parted by severe decree, Far different must our fortunes prove; May thine be joy! enough for me To weep and pray for him I love. The pangs this foolish heart [may]4 feel, When hope [must be for ever gone]5, No [fruitless sorrow]6 shall reveal, No [sullen murmur]7 ever own. Nor will I [thro' my]8 weary years, [As]9 a pale drooping mourner [rove]10, While I can think my secret tears [Are not forgot by]11 him I love.
Authorship:
- by Andrew MacDonald (1757 - 1790), "Air XXVII", appears in Love and Loyalty, first published 1791
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Sophie Friederike Elise Mayer) , no title, first published 1826
Confirmed with The Miscellaneous Works of A. M'Donald; including The Tragedy of Vimonda, and those productions which have appeared under the signature of Matthew Bramble, Esq. with various other compositions by the same author. London: Printed for J. Murray, no. 32, Fleet-Street. M.DCC.XCI. [1791], page 289.
Note: In MacDonald's opera libretto Love and Loyalty the poem appears in act III as Juliana's air. The poem has been quoted and included by Sir Walter Scott in his novel A Legend of Montrose, with some changes, in the 21st chapter (denominated "Chapter XIII"). Here Annot Lyle sings "a little Gaelic song, [which] has been translated by the ingenious and unhappy Alexander M'Donald". Scott's transcription of the poem has been confirmed with his anonymous publication Tales of my Landlord, Third Series. Collected and arranged by Jedediah Cleishbotham, Schoolmaster and Parish-Clerk of Gandercleugh. In four volumes. Vol. IV. Edinburgh: printed for Archibald Constable and Co. Edinburgh; 1819, pages 277-278.
1 Scott: "lot"2 Scott: "wherever"
3 Scott: "bounding galley"
4 Scott: "must"
5 Scott: "shall be forever flown"
6 Scott: "sullen murmur"
7 Scott: "selfish murmurs"
8 Scott: "through life's"
9 Scott: "Like"
10 Scott: "move"
11 Scott: "May wound the heart of"
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Peter Rastl [Guest Editor]
12. Farewell to Northmaven  [sung text not yet checked]
Farewell to Northmaven, Grey Hillswicke, farewell! The storms on thy haven, The storms on thy fell, To each breeze that can vary The mood of thy main, And to thee, bonny Mary! We meet not again! Farewell the wild ferry, Which Hacon could brave, When the peaks of the Skerry Where white in the wave. There's a maid may look over These wild waves in vain, For the skiff of her lover, He comes not again! The vows thou hast broke, On the wild currents fling them; On the quicksand and rock Let the mermaidens sing them. New sweetness they'll give her Bewildering strain; But there's one who will never Believe them again. O were there an island, Though ever so wild, Where woman could smile, and No man be beguiled, Too tempting a snare To poor mortals were given; And the hope would fix there, That should anchor in heaven.
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), "Claud Halcro's song", appears in The Pirate
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]13. Serenade  [sung text not yet checked]
Love wakes and weeps While Beauty sleeps ; Oh! for music's softest numbers To prompt a theme For Beauty's dream, Soft as the [pillow]1 of her slumbers! Through groves of [palm]2 Sigh gales of balm ; Fire-flies on the air are wheeling ; While through the gloom Comes soft perfume, The distant beds of [flowers]3 revealing. Oh! wake and live! No dreams can give A shadowed bliss the real excelling ; No longer sleep From lattice peep, And list the tale that love is telling!
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), "Love wakes and weeps", appears in The Pirate, chapter 23
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Strickland: "perfume"
2 Strickland: "palms"
3 Strickland: "ferns"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
14. Then in my gown of sober grey  [sung text not yet checked]
Then in my gown of sober gray Along the mountain path I'll wander, And wind my solitary way To the sad shrine that courts me yonder. There, in the calm monastic shade, All injuries may be forgiven; And there for thee, obdurate maid, My orisons shall rise to heaven. THE CRUEL LADY OF THE MOUNTAINS.
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), no title, appears in The Monastery
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]