Earth fades! Heaven breaks on me: I shall stand next Before God's throne: the moment's close at hand When man the first, last time, has leave to lay His whole heart bare before its Maker, leave To clear up the long error of a life And choose one happiness for evermore.
In Memoriam: 3 Rhapsodies
Song Cycle by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875 - 1912)
1. Earth fades! Heaven breaks on me  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by Robert Browning (1812 - 1889), no title, appears in Strafford, Act V, Scene 2, first published 1837
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Substitution  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
When some belovèd voice that was to you Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, And silence, against which you dare not cry, Aches round you like a strong disease and new - What hope ? what help ? what music will undo That silence to your sense ? Not friendship's sigh, Not reason's subtle count; not melody Of viols, nor of pipes that Faunus blew; Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress-trees To the clear moon; nor yet the spheric laws Self-chanted, nor the angels' sweet 'All hails,' Met in the smile of God: nay, none of these. Speak Thou, availing Christ! - and fill this pause.
Authorship:
- by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806 - 1861), "Substitution"
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First published in Graham's Magazine, December 1842, revised 1844.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
3. Weep not, beloved friends  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Weep not, beloved Friends! nor let the air For me with sighs be troubled. Not from life Have I been taken; this is genuine life And this alone--the life which now I live In peace eternal; where desire and joy Together move in fellowship without end. -- Francesco Ceni willed that, after death, His tombstone thus should speak for him. And surely Small cause there is for that fond wish of ours Long to continue in this world; a world That keeps not faith, nor yet can point a hope To good, whereof itself is destitute.
Authorship:
- by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850), no title, written 1810?, appears in Epitaphs, no. 1, first published 1837
Based on:
- a text in Italian (Italiano) by Gabriello Chiabrera (1552 - 1638) [text unavailable]
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]Total word count: 260