by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
Grant me, ye Gods
Language: English
Grant me, ye gods, the life I love, And lead me to a shady grove; There let the trees' verdant hair Sport with each kind blast of air. Let birds. The choristers of the wool, Sing all that's pleasant, all that's good; Make some liquid silver stream In soft whisp'ring court the plain; And let me here flowers behold, Fringing its banks with native gold. Then tell, ye gods, tell if ye can, What prince, what great unhappy man, Would not thus a cell prefer, And choose to live an hermit here!
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [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 John Blow (1649 - 1708), "Grant me, ye Gods" [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2009-11-16
Line count: 14
Word count: 92