by Robert Seymour Bridges (1844 - 1930)
Dirge
Language: English
Bass solo To me, to me, fair-hearted Goddess, come! To sorrow, come! Where by the grave I linger, dumb. With sorrow bow thine head, For all my beauty is dead. Leave Freedom's vaunt, leave happy thought awhile, Content thee with the solemn style of heav'nly peace. Thou only canst console, Thou canst the eternal clouds unroll. Speak thou, my griefs, that so from pain My spirit yet may rise to love again The Truth unknown that keeps our faith; The Beauty unseen that bates our breath; The Heav'n that doth our joys renew, And drinketh up our tears as dew. Lament, fair-hearted Queen, lament with me For when thy Seer died no song was sung; Nor for thy heroes slain by land or sea Hath honour found a tongue. They died unsung, uncrown'd - And no memorial found, Nor aught of beauty can we frame Worthy their noble name. Let idle Mirth go bare, make mute the dancing string, Adorn with thy majestic consolation Our mortal suffering, lest from our pain We ne'er arise to see again The Truth unknown that keeps our faith; The Beauty unseen that bates our breath; The Heav'n that doth our joys renew, And drinketh up our tears as dew.
Authorship:
- by Robert Seymour Bridges (1844 - 1930), "Dirge", appears in Invocation to Music, no. 6, first published 1895 [author's text checked 1 time 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 Charles Hubert Hastings Parry, Sir (1848 - 1918), "Dirge", published 1895 [bass and orchestra], from Invocation to music - An Ode in Honour of Henry Purcell, no. 7. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2009-07-30
Line count: 32
Word count: 205