Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves Came to me a gentle sound, Whisepring of a secret found In the clear sunshine 'mid the golden sheaves: Said it was sleeping for me in the morn, Called it gladness, called it joy, Drew me on -- "Come hither, boy" -- To where the blue wings rested on the corn. I thought the gentle sound had whispered true, -- Thought the little heaven mine, Leaned to clutch the thing divine, And saw the blue wings melt within the blue!
Eight songs from "The Spanish Gypsy"
Song Cycle by Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir (1852 - 1924)
1. Blue wings  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, no title, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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Researcher for this page: Ted Perry2. Day is dying  [sung text checked 1 time]
Day is dying! Float, O song, Down the westward river, Requiem chanting to the Day, Day, the mighty giver! Pierced by shafts of Time he bleeds, Melted rubies sending Through the river and the sky, Earth and heaven blending; All the long-drawn earthy banks Up to cloud-land lifting: Slow between them drifts the swan 'Twixt two heavens drifting, Wings half open like a flow'r. Inly deeper flushing, Neck and breast as virgin's pure, -- Virgin proudly blushing. Day is dying! Float, O swan, Down the ruby river, Follow, song, in requiem To the mighty Giver.
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, no title, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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Researcher for this page: Ted Perry3. Sweet Springtime  [sung text checked 1 time]
It was in the prime Of the sweet Spring-time In the linnet's throat Trembled the love-note, And the love-stirred air Thrilled the blossoms there. Little shadows danced, Each a tiny elf, Happy in large light And the thinnest self. It was but a minute In a far-off Spring, But each gentle thing, Sweetly-wooing linnet, Soft-thrilled hawthorn-tree, Happy shadowy elf, With the thinnest self, Live [still on]1 in me. [O the sweet, sweet prime]2 Of the past Spring-time!
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Stanford: "on still"
2 Stanford: "It was in the prime"
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
4. Spring comes hither  [sung text checked 1 time]
Spring comes hither Buds the rose; Roses wither, Sweet spring goes. Ojalà, would she carry me! Summer soars -- Wide-winged day [White light pours, Flies away]1. Ojalà, would he carry me! Soft winds blow Westward borne, Onward go [Towards]2 the morn. Ojalà, would they carry me! Sweet birds sing O'er the graves, Then take wing O'er the waves. Ojalà, would they carry me!
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, no title, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Lang: "Onward pours/ To the day"
2 Lang: "toward"
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
5. Came a pretty maid  [sung text checked 1 time]
Came a pretty maid By the moon's pure light, Loved me well, she said, Eyes with tears all bright, A pretty maid! But too late she strayed, Moonlight pure was there; She was [naught]1 but shade, Hiding the more fair, The heavenly maid!
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, no title, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Stanford: "nought"
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
6. The world is great  [sung text checked 1 time]
The world is great: the birds [all]1 fly from me; The stars are golden fruit upon a tree All out of reach: my little sister went, And I am lonely. The world is great: I tried to mount the hill Above the pines, where the light lies so still, But it rose higher: little Lisa went, And I am lonely. The world is great: the wind comes rushing by. I wonder where it comes from; sea-birds cry And hurt my heart: my little sister went, And I am lonely. The world is great: the people laugh and talk, And make loud holiday: how fast they walk! I'm lame, they push me: little Lisa went, And I am lonely.
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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View original text (without footnotes)1 omitted by Stanford.
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
7. Bright, o bright Fedalma  [sung text checked 1 time]
Maiden, crowned with glossy blackness, Lithe as panther forest-roaming, Long-armed naiad, when she dances On a stream of ether floating, -- Bright, O bright Fedalma! Form all curves like softness drifted, Wave-kissed marble roundly dimpling, Far-off music slowly wingèd, Gently rising, gently sinking, -- Bright, O bright Fedalma! Pure as rain-tear on a rose-leaf, Cloud high-born in noonday spotless Sudden perfect [as]1 the dew-bead, Gem of earth and sky begotten, -- Bright, O bright Fedalma! Beauty has no mortal father, Holy light her form engendered, Out of tremor, yearning, gladness, Presage sweet, and joy remembered, -- Child of light, Fedalma!
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, no title, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Stanford: "like"
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
8. The radiant dark  [sung text checked 1 time]
Should I long that dark were fair? Say, O song! Lacks my love aught, that I should long? Dark the night, with breath all flow'rs And tender broken voice that fills With ravishment the listening hours: Whisperings, wooings, Liquid ripples, and soft ring-dove cooings In low-toned rhythm that love's aching stills. Dark the night, Yet is she bright, For in her dark she brings the mystic star, Trembling yet strong, as is the voice of love, From some unknown afar. O radiant dark! O darkly fostered ray! Thou hast a joy too deep for shallow Day.
Authorship:
- by Mary Ann Evans (1819 - 1880), as George Eliot, appears in The Spanish Gypsy, first published 1868
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Researcher for this page: Ted Perry