Since it is evening, let us invent love's undiscovered continent. What shall we steer by, having no chart but the deliberate fraud of the heart? How shall we find it? Beyond what keys of boyhood's Spanish piracies, false Eldorados dim with the tears of beauty, the last of the buccaneers? Since it is evening, let us design what shall be utterly yours and mine. There will be nothing that ever before beckoned the sail or from any shore. Trees shall be greener by mountains more pale, thrushes outsinging the nightingale, flowers now butterflies, now in the grass, suddenly quiet as painted glass, and fishes of emerald dive for the moon, whose silver is stained by the peacock lagoon. Since it is evening, and sailing weather, let us set out for the dream together; set for the landfall, where love and verse enfranchise forever the travellers.
- by Humbert Wolfe (1885 - 1940), "A little music", appears in This Blind Rose, first published 1928 [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 Gustav Holst (1874 - 1934), "A little music", op. 48 no. 4, H. 174 no. 4 (1929), published 1930, from Twelve Humbert Wolfe Songs, no. 4. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:56
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Word count: 145