O gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes, And winter waits behind it. For with the dream foregone, foregone, The deed foreborn forever, The worm Regret will canker on, And time will turn him never. So were it well to love, my love, And cheat of any laughter The fate beneath us, and above, The dark before and after. The myrtle and the rose, the rose, The sunshine and the swallow, The dream that comes, the wish that goes The memories that follow!
Seven songs , opus 26
by Fritz Bennicke Hart (1874 - 1949)
1. O gather me the rose, the rose  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), no title, appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. The spring, my dear, is no longer spring  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
The spring, my dear, Is no longer spring. Does the blackbird sing What he sang last year? Are the skies the old Immemorial blue? Or am I, or are you, Grown cold? Though life be change, It is hard to bear When the old sweet air Sounds forced and strange. To be out of tune, Plain You and I . . . It were better to die, And soon!
Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), no title, appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. In the year that's come and gone  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
In the year that's come and gone, love, his flying feather Stooping slowly, gave us heart, and bade us walk together. In the year that's coming on, though many a troth be broken, We at least will not forget aught that love hath spoken. In the year that's come and gone, dear, we wove a tether All of gracious words and thoughts, binding two together. In the year that's coming on with its wealth of roses We shall weave it stronger yet, ere the circle closes. In the year that's come and gone, in the golden weather, Sweet, my sweet we swore to keep the watch of life together. In the year that's coming on, rich in joy and sorrow, We shall light our lamp and wait life's mysterious morrow.
Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), no title, appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. Praise the generous gods  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Praise the generous gods for giving In a world of wrath and strife, With a little time for living, Unto all the joy of life. At whatever source we drink it, Art or life or faith or wine, In whatever terms we think it, It is common and divine. Praise the high gods, for in giving This for man, and this alone, They have made his chance for living Shine the equal of their own.
Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), no title, written 1875, appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]5. The sea is full of wandering foam  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
The sea is full of [wandering]1 foam, The sky of driving cloud; My restless thoughts among them roam . . . The night is dark and loud. Where are the hours that came to me So beautiful and bright? A wild wind shakes the wilder sea . . . O, dark and loud's the night!
Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Beach: "wand'ring"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
6. I am the Reaper  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
I am the Reaper. All things with heedful hook Silent I gather. Pale roses touched with the spring, Tall corn in summer, Fruits rich with autumn, and frail winter blossoms -- Reaping, still reaping -- All things with heedful hook Timely I gather. I am the Sower. All the unbodied life Runs through my seed-sheet. Atom with atom wed, Each quickening the other, Fall through my hands, ever changing, still changeless. Ceaselessly sowing, Life, incorruptible life, Flows from my seed-sheet. Maker and breaker, I am the ebb and the flood, Here and Hereafter, Sped through the tangle and coil Of infinite nature, Viewless and soundless I fashion all being. Taker and giver, I am the womb and the grave, The Now and the Ever
Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), no title, appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]7. Let me sleep  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Life is bitter. All the faces of the years, Young and old, are grey with travail and with tears. Must we only wake to toil, to tire, to weep? In the sun, among the leaves, upon the flowers, Slumber stills to dreamy death the heavy hours . . . Let me sleep. Riches won but mock the old, unable years; Fame's a pearl that hides beneath a sea of tears; Love must wither, or must live alone and weep. In the sunshine, through the leaves, across the flowers, While we slumber, death approaches though the hours! . . . Let me sleep.
Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), "To my mother II", appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]