by Thomas d'Urfey (1653 - 1723)
Farewell, ye rocks, ye seas and sands
Language: English
Farewell, ye rocks, ye seas and sands, Green Neptune I despise, I'll rather court the pleasant strands, Than all his wat'ry joys. Inconstant bliss our fate beguiles, The sea like love we find, Where calms are like fair Cynthia's smiles, And frowns like gusts of wind. "Port, port, port, Hear the noise Of the tarpaulin boys, Luff, haul aft the sheet" Is the mariner's wit; A plague of their ignorant prattle, And send me to land, Where I may command A pretty kind wench and a bottle. With all God's miracles at land Let me acquainted be, Let fools that more would understand, Go find them out at sea. His mighty works I'll praise on shore, And there his blessings reap, But from this moment seek nor more His wonders in the deep. Port, port... The merchant, when his sails are furl'd, Glides o'er the foamy main, And ploughs with ease the wat'ry world, So great a charm is gain. When avarice has any bounds, If his contented were, I'd wage a hundred thousand pounds He never would come there. Port, port...
Authorship:
- by Thomas d'Urfey (1653 - 1723) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Henry Purcell (1658/9 - 1695), "Farewell, ye rocks, ye seas and sands", subtitle: "The Storm", Z. 463, published 1685. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 35
Word count: 182