Anna‑Marie, love, up is the sun
Anna-Marie, love, up is the sun,
Anna-Marie, love, morn is begun,
Mists are dispersing, love, birds singing free,
Up in the morning, love, Anna-Marie.
Anna-Marie, love, up in the morn,
The hunter is winding blithe sounds on his horn,
The echo rings merry from rock and from tree,
'Tis time to arouse thee, love, Anna-Marie.
O Tybalt, love, Tybalt, awake me not yet,
Around my soft pillow while softer dreams flit,
For what are the joys that in waking we prove,
Compared with these visions, O, Tybalt, my love?
Let the birds to the rise of the mist carol shrill,
Let the hunter blow out his loud horn on the hill,
Softer sounds, softer pleasures, in slumber I prove, —
But think not I dreamt of thee, Tybalt, my love.
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Confirmed with Ivanhoe: A Romance by Walter Scott, Gutenberg online edition. Note: the poem appears as a quoted song, and may or may not be by Walter Scott himself.
Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
[ None yet in the database ]
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
- Also set in French (Français), a translation by Auguste-Jean-Baptiste Defauconpret (1767 - 1843) , appears in Ivanhoé, Éd. Furne, Charles Gosselin, et Perrotin, first published 1835 ; composed by Benjamin Louis Paul Godard.
Text added to the website: 2019-05-04 00:00:00.
Last modified: 2019-05-04 12:03:12
Line count: 16
Word count: 130
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