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Laments from Gondal

Word count: 617

Song Cycle by Lothar Klein (b. 1932)

Show the texts alone (bare mode).

?. The Farewell [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]

Language: English

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No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear

O God within my breast
Almighty, ever-present Deity
Life that in me has rest
As I, Undying Life, have power in Thee

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thine infinity
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality

With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

Though Earth and Man were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And Thou wert left alone,
Every existence would exist in thee

There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since Thou are Being and Breath,
And what THOU art may never be destroyed.


Note: in the Fisk work, this is sung by Lockwood

Submitted by Victoria Brago

?. The Visionary [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]

Language: English

Authorship


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Silent is the house
All are laid asleep
One alone looks out
O'er the snow wreaths deep

Watching every cloud
Dreading every breeze
That whirls the wildering drifts
And bends the groaning trees

Cheerful is the hearth
Soft the matted floor
Not one shivering gust
Creeps through pane and door

The little lamp burns straight
Its rays shoot strong and far
I trim it well to be
The wanderers guiding star

Frown my haughty sire
Chide my angry dame
Set your slaves to spy
Threaten me with shame

But neither sire nor dame
Nor prying serf shall know
What angel nightly tracks
That waste of winter snow

What I love shall come
Like visitant of air
Safe in secret power
From lurking human snare

Who loves me no word of mine
Shall o'er betray
Though for faith unstained
My life must forfeit pay

Burn then little lamp
Glimmer straight and clear
Hush a rusting wind stirs
Me thinks the air

He for whom I wait
Thus ever comes to me
Strange power I trust your might
Trust thou my constancy


Note: in the Fisk work, this is sung by Isabella

Submitted by Terry Fisk

?. The Grave [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]

Language: English

Authorship


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Cold in the earth, the deep snow piled above thee!
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my Only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all wearing wave?

Cold in the earth, and [fifteen]1 wild Decembers
From those brown hills have melted into spring
Faithful [indeed the]2 spirit that remembers
[After years]3 of change and suffering!

Sweet love of youth, forgive if I forget thee
While the World's tide is bearing me along;
[Other desires and darker hopes beset me
Hopes which obscure but cannot do thee wrong]4

No other [Sun]5 has lightened up my heaven;
No [other Star]6 has ever shone for me;
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given
all my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

But when the days of golden dreams had perished
[Even]7 despair was powerless to destroy
[Then I did learn how existence could be cherished
Strengthened and fed without the aid of joy]4

Then did I check the tears of useless passion,
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
[Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more then mine]4

And even yet, I dare not let it languish
Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that [divinest]8 anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?


View original text (without footnotes)
Note: in the Fisk work, this is sung by Heathcliff
1 Fisk: "eighteen"
2 Fisk: "indeed is the"
3 Fisk: "After such years"
4 omitted by Mitchell
5 Fisk: "light"
6 Fisk: "second morn"
7 Fisk: "And even"
8 Fisk: "divine"

Submitted by Victoria Brago

?. The fallen leaf [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]

Language: English

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The wind was rough which tore
The leaf from its parent tree
The fate was cruel which bore
The withering corpse to me

We wander on we have no rest
It is a dreary way

What shadow is it
That ever moves before [my] eyes
It has a brow of ghostly whiteness


Note: in the Fisk work, this is sung by Heathcliff

Submitted by Terry Fisk

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