You can help us modernize! The present website has been online for a very long time and we want to bring it up to date. As of May 6, we are $2,380 away from our goal of $15,000 to fund the project. The fully redesigned site will be better for mobile, easier to read and navigate, and ready for the next decade. Please give today to join dozens of other supporters in making this important overhaul possible!

The LiederNet Archive

Much of our material is not in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission.
Printing texts or translations without the name of the author or translator is also illegal.
You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.

For more information, contact us at the following address:
licenses (AT) lieder (DOT) net
Please read the instructions below the translations before writing!
In your e-mail, always include the names of the translators if you wish to reprint something.

Ode on Melancholy

Language: English

No, no! go not to Lethe, neither twist
⁠Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd
⁠By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
⁠Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
⁠⁠Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
⁠For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
⁠⁠And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.


But when the melancholy fit shall fall
⁠Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
⁠And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose.
⁠Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
⁠⁠Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
⁠Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
⁠⁠And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.


She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
⁠And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
⁠Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
⁠Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
⁠⁠Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
⁠Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
⁠⁠And be among her cloudy trophies hung.


Submitted by Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]

Authorship

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: 2019-05-12 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2019-05-12 23:44:14

Line count: 30
Word count: 222

Gentle Reminder
This website began in 1995 as a personal project, and I have been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your gift is greatly appreciated.
     - Emily Ezust

Browse imslp.org (Petrucci Music Library) for Lieder or choral works