The new moon hangs like an ivory bugle In the naked frosty blue; And the leaves of the forest, already blackened By Winter, are blackened anew. The brooks that cut up and increase the forest, As if they had never known The sun, are roaring with black hollow voices Betwixt rage and a moan. But still the caravan-hut by the hollies Like a kingfisher gleams between: Round the mossed old hearths of the charcoal-burners First primroses ask to be seen. The charcoal-burners are black, but their linen Blows white on the line: And white the letter the girl is reading Under that crescent fine; And her brother hidden apart in a thicket, Slowly and surely playing On a whistle an olden nursery melody, Says far more than I am saying.
Lights Out
Song Cycle by Ivor (Bertie) Gurney (1890 - 1937)
1. The penny whistle  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917), "The penny whistle"
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Researcher for this page: David Kenneth Smith2. Scents  [sung text checked 1 time]
Today I think only [with]1 scents, -- scents dead leaves yield, [And]2 bracken, [and]2 wild [carrot's]3 seed, And the square mustard field; [Odours that rise]4 When the spade wounds the [root]5 of tree, Rose, currant, raspberry, [or]2 goutweed, Rhubarb [or]2 celery; The smoke's smell, too, [Flowing from where a]6 bonfire burns [The dead, the waste]7, the dangerous, And all to sweetness turns. It is enough To smell, to crumble the dark earth, While the Robin sings over again Sad songs of [Autumn]8 mirth.
Authorship:
- by Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917), "Digging I"
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Gurney: "of"
2 omitted by Gurney.
3 Gurney: "carrot"
4 Gurney: "Scents that arise"
5 Gurney: "roots"
6 Gurney: "Blowing from where the"
7 Gurney: "The waste, the dead"
8 Gurney: "winter"
Researcher for this page: David Kenneth Smith
3. Bright clouds  [sung text checked 1 time]
Bright clouds of May Shade half the pond. Beyond, All but one bay Of emerald Tall reeds Like crisscross bayonets Where a bird once called, Lies bright as the sun. No one heeds. The light wind frets And drifts the scum Of may-blossom. Till the moorhen calls Again. Naught's to be done By birds or men. Still the may falls.
Authorship:
- by Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917), "The Pond"
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Researcher for this page: David Kenneth Smith4. Lights out  [sung text checked 1 time]
I have come to the borders of sleep, The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight Or winding, soon or late; They can not choose. Here love ends --- Despair, ambition ends; All pleasure and all trouble, Although most sweet or bitter, Here ends, in sleep that is sweeter Than tasks most noble. [ ... ] There is not any book Or face of dearest look That I would not turn from now To go into the unknown I must enter, and leave, alone, I know not how. [ ... ]
Authorship:
- by Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917), "Lights out"
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Researcher for this page: David Kenneth Smith5. Will you come?  [sung text checked 1 time]
Will you come? [Will you come?]1 Will you ride So late At my side? O, will you come? [Will you come? Will you come]1 If the night Has a moon, [Full and bright? O, will you come]1? [Would you come?]1 Would you come If the noon Gave light, Not the moon? [Beautiful]2, would you come? [Would you have come?]1 Would you have come Without scorning, Had it been Still morning? Beloved, would you have come? If you come Haste and come, Owls have cried; It grows dark To ride. Beloved, beautiful, come.
Authorship:
- by Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917), as Edward Eastaway, "Will you come?", first published 1917
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View original text (without footnotes)1 omitted by Maconchy.
2 Maconchy: "O beautiful"
Researcher for this page: David Kenneth Smith
6. The Trumpet  [sung text checked 1 time]
Rise up, rise up, And, as the trumpet blowing [Chases]1 the dreams of men, As the dawn glowing The stars that left unlit The land and water, Rise up and scatter The dew that covers The print of last night's lovers --- Scatter it, scatter it! While you are listening To [the]2 clear horn, Forget, men, everything On this earth newborn, [Except]3 that it is lovelier Than any mysteries. Open your eyes to the air That has washed the eyes of the stars Through all the dewy night: Up with the light, To the old wars; Arise, arise!
Authorship:
- by Edward Thomas (1878 - 1917), as Edward Eastaway, "The Trumpet", first published 1917
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Gurney: "Scatters"
2 Gurney: "that"
3 Gurney: "Save"
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , David Kenneth Smith