by Helen Taylor (1876 - 1943)

Come take your lute
Language: English 
Come take your lute, my love, and play
That tender strain of yesterday,
That list’ning, I may close my eyes
And deem my soul in paradise.
When as your fingers touch the strings,
I hear the sound of seraph wings,
And all the demons of the air
Take flight and to their shades repair.
Come take your lute, my love, and play
That tender strain of yesterday,
That list’ning, I may close my eyes
And deem my soul in paradise.

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Researcher for this text: Mike Pearson