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'Tis sunshine at last

Language: English

'Tis sunshine at last, come, my Ellen, sit near me,
And twine me these roses, we sorrow no more;
Come taste of my cup, while it sparkles to cheer me,
The cup that I fill, now the tempest is o'er.
Oh! Not that my mirth, with unhallow'd intrusion,
Would thy gentle mind to rude transport beguile,
But catch from my bowl one fond passing illusion,
And crown my gay heart with thy sympathy's smile.

Come taste of my cup - for 'till Ellen shall share it,
In vain are the roses - in vain is the wine:
Past sorrow shall sweeten, and love shall prepare it,
For forms that are softer and finer like thine.
Bright beams a new world, and sweet visions break o'er us,
And as landscapes are fresher when past are the show'rs,
So richer the bliss and the gay  hopes before us - 
For where are the hearts that have sorrow'd like ours.

Oh! Ever, my love, must I think of that season,
When, friendless, we mingled our terrors and sighs;
And how had I failed, in the night of my reason,
Had comfort not beam'd from thine eloquent eyes.
Take the glass that I fill, take the homage I render:
No riot shall break the soft dreams of the soul;
Around us shall breathe an Elysium more tender,
And finer enchantment be waked from my bowl.


Translation(s): GER

List of language codes

Submitted by Ferdinando Albeggiani

Authorship


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

  • by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827), "'Tis sunshine at last", WoO. 153 (20 Irische Lieder mit Begleitung von Pianoforte, Violine und Violoncello) no. 13, G. 224 no. 13, published 1814/6. [voice, piano, violin, violoncello] [
     text verified 1 time
    ]

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):


Text added to the website: 2005-01-12.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:11
Line count: 24
Word count: 231

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Sonnenschein

Language: German (Deutsch) after the English

Komm, Ellen, ans Herz mir, zuletzt kam die Sonne,
Mit Rosen bekränz uns, von Sorgen nun frei;
Komm, trinke vom Kelchglas, es strahlt mir zur Wonne,
vom Kelchglas, gefüllt, nun der sturmwind vorbei.
O nicht, daß ich strebte, mit weltlichen Flammen
Verwirrend dein sanftes Gemüht zu durchsprühn;
Doch laß uns frohlocken beseligt zusammen,
Und Ellen, dein Lächeln laß huldreich mir glühn.

Komm trinke vom Becher - bis Ellen ihn weihte,
Umsonst blühn die Rosen, umsonst perlt der Wein - ,
Den Hoffnung versüße und Liebe bereite
Zu Bildern von holderem, lichterem Schein.
Verjüngt strahlt die Welt, malt uns Himmelsgestalten,
Und wie nach dem Regen die Flur glänzt mehr reich,
So schauen wir Hoffnung und Glück sich entfalten - 
Denn wo litten Herzen den unsrigen gleich?

O nimmer vergess'ich, wie treu deine Minne
In Seufzern und Elend geteilt mein Geschick;
Wie hätt'ich gefehlt in der Nacht meiner Sinne,
Wenn Trost mir gestrahlt nicht dein leuchtender Blick.
Nimm das schäumende Glas, meinen Dank laß dir singen,
Kein Sturm soll den Traum unsrer Seelen entweihn,
Einen Himmel auf Erden soll Liebe uns bringen
Und holdes Entzücken uns zaubern der Wein!


Submitted by Ferdinando Albeggiani

Authorship


Based on
  • a text in English by William Smyth (1765 - 1849)
      • This text was set to music by the following composer(s): Ludwig van Beethoven. Go to the text.

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 ]


Text added to the website: 2005-01-12.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:12
Line count: 24
Word count: 187