The cock crows But no queen rises. The hair of my blonde Is dazzling, As the spittle of cows Threading the wind. Ho! Ho! But ki-ki-ri-ki Brings no rou-cou, No rou-cou-cou. But no queen comes In slipper green.
Five Part Songs to Poems by Wallace Stevens
Song Cycle by John Linton Gardner (1917 - 2011)
1. Depression before Spring  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955), "Depression before Spring", appears in Harmonium
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First published in 1918.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. Peter Quince at the Clavier  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
I Just as my fingers on these keys Make music, so the self-same sounds On my spirit make a music, too. Music is feeling, then, not sound; And thus it is that what I feel, Here in this room, desiring you, Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk, Is music. It is like the strain Waked in the elders by Susanna; Of a green evening, clear and warm, She bathed in her still garden, while The red-eyed elders, watching, felt The basses of their beings throb In witching chords, and their thin blood Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna. II In the green water, clear and warm, Susanna lay. She searched The touch of springs, And found Concealed imaginings. She sighed, For so much melody. Upon the bank, she stood In the cool Of spent emotions. She felt, among the leaves, The dew Of old devotions. She walked upon the grass, Still quavering. The winds were like her maids, On timid feet, Fetching her woven scarves, Yet wavering. A breath upon her hand Muted the night. She turned -- A cymbal crashed, Amid roaring horns. III Soon, with a noise like tambourines, Came her attendant Byzantines. They wondered why Susanna cried Against the elders by her side; And as they whispered, the refrain Was like a willow swept by rain. Anon, their lamps' uplifted flame Revealed Susanna and her shame. And then, the simpering Byzantines Fled, with a noise like tambourines. IV Beauty is momentary in the mind -- The fitful tracing of a portal; But in the flesh it is immortal. The body dies; the body's beauty lives. So evenings die, in their green going, A wave, interminably flowing. So gardens die, their meek breath scenting The cowl of winter, done repenting. So maidens die, to the auroral Celebration of a maiden's choral. Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings Of those white elders; but, escaping, Left only Death's ironic scraping. Now, in its immortality, it plays On the clear viol of her memory, And makes a constant sacrament of praise.
Authorship:
- by Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955), "Peter Quince at the Clavier", appears in Harmonium, first published 1923
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First published in Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1915 and Year Book of American Poetry, ed. William Stanley Braithwaite. New York: Gomme and Marshall, 1915.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
3. Ploughing on Sunday  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
The white cock's tail Tosses in the wind. The turkey-cock's tail Glitters in the sun. Water in the fields. The wind pours down. The feathers flare And bluster in the wind. Remus, blow your horn! I'm ploughing on Sunday, Ploughing North America. Blow your horn! Tum-ti-tum, Ti-tum-tum-tum! The turkey-cock's tail Spreads to the sun. The white cock's tail Streams to the moon. Water in the fields. The wind pours down.
Authorship:
- by Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955), "Ploughing on Sunday", appears in Harmonium, first published 1923
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First published in 1919.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
4. Life is motion  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
In Oklahoma, Bonnie and Josie, Dressed in calico, Danced around a stump. They cried, "Ohoyaho, Ohoo"... Celebrating the marriage Of flesh and air.
Authorship:
- by Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955), "Life is motion", appears in Harmonium, first published 1923
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First published 1919.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
5. Cy est Pourtraicte, Madame Ste Ursule, et les Unze Mille Vierges  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Ursula, in a garden, found A bed of radishes. She kneeled upon the ground And gathered them, With flowers around, Blue, gold, pink, and green. She dressed in red and gold brocade And in the grass an offering made Of radishes and flowers. She said, "My dear, Upon your altars, I have placed The marguerite and coquelicot, And roses Frail as April snow; But here," she said, "Where none can see, I make an offering, in the grass, Of radishes and flowers." And then she wept For fear the Lord would not accept. The good Lord in His garden sought New leaf and shadowy tinct, And they were all His thought. He heard her low accord, Half prayer and half ditty, And He felt a subtle quiver, That was not heavenly love, Or pity. This is not writ In any book.
Authorship:
- by Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955), "Cy est Pourtraicte, Madame Ste Ursule, et les Unze Mille Vierges", appears in Harmonium, first published 1923
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First published in the magazine Rogue, 1915Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Total word count: 607