Some are laughing, some are weeping; She is sleeping, only sleeping. Round her rest wild flowers are creeping; There the wind is heaping, heaping Sweetest sweets of Summer’s keeping, By the corn fields ripe for reaping. There are lilies, and there blushes The deep rose, and there the thrushes Sing till latest sunlight flushes In the west; a fresh wind brushes Through the leaves while evening hushes. There by day the lark is singing And the grass and weeds are springing; There by night the bat is winging; There for ever winds are bringing Far-off chimes of church-bells ringing. Night and morning, noon and even, Their sound fills her dreams with Heaven: The long strife at length is striven: Till her grave-bands shall be riven Such is the good portion given To her soul at rest and shriven.
Bitter for Sweet
by Simon Sargon (b. 1938)
1. Sound sleep  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Wrestling  [sung text checked 1 time]
Alas my Lord, How should I wrestle all the livelong night With Thee my God, my Strength and my Delight? How can it need So agonized an effort and a strain To make Thy Face of Mercy shine again? How can it need Such wringing out of breathless prayer to move Thee to Thy wonted Love, when Thou art Love? Yet Abraham So hung about Thine Arm outstretched and bared, That for ten righteous Sodom had been spared. Yet Jacob did So hold Thee by the clenched hand of prayer That he prevailed, and Thou didst bless him there. Elias prayed, And sealed the founts of Heaven; he prayed again And lo, Thy Blessing fell in showers of rain. Gulped by the fish, As by the pit, lost Jonah made his moan; And Thou forgavest, waiting to atone. All Nineveh Fasting and girt in sackcloth raised a cry, Which moved Thee ere the day of grace went by. Thy Church prayed on And on for blessed Peter in his strait, Till opened of its own accord the gate. Yea, Thou my God Hast prayed all night, and in the garden prayed Even while, like melting wax, Thy strength was made. Alas for him Who faints, despite Thy Pattern, King of Saints: Alas, alas, for me, the one that faints. Lord, give us strength To hold Thee fast, until we hear Thy Voice Which Thine own know, who hearing It rejoice. Lord, give us strength To hold Thee fast until we see Thy Face, Full Fountain of all Rapture and all Grace. But when our strength Shall be made weakness, and our bodies clay, Hold Thou us fast, and give us sleep till day.
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. Song  [sung text checked 1 time]
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Song", appears in Goblin Market and other Poems, first published 1862
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Nach meinem Tode, Liebster", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Canzone", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
5. Holy Innocents  [sung text checked 1 time]
Sleep, little Baby, sleep, The holy Angels love thee, And guard thy bed, and keep A blessed watch above thee. No spirit can come near Nor evil beast to harm thee; Sleep, Sweet, devoid of fear Where nothing need alarm thee. The Love which doth not sleep, The eternal Arms around thee; The Shepherd of the sheep In perfect love has found thee. Sleep thro' the holy night, Christ-kept from snare and sorrow, Until thou wake to light And love and warmth to-morrow.
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Holy innocents"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]6. By the Waters of Babylon  [sung text not yet checked]
By the waters of Babylon We sit down and weep, Far from the pleasant land Where our fathers sleep; Far from our Holy Place From which the Glory is gone; We sit in dust and weep By the waters of Babylon. By the waters of Babylon The willow trees grow rank: We hang our harps thereon Silent upon the bank. Before us the days are dark, And dark the days that are gone; We grope in the very dark By the waters of Babylon. By the waters of Babylon We thirst for Jordan yet, We pine for Jerusalem Whereon our hearts are set: Our priests defiled and slain, Our princes ashamed and gone, Oh how should we forget By the waters of Babylon? By the waters of Babylon Tho' the wicked grind the just, Our seed shall yet strike root And shall shoot up from the dust: The captive shall lead captive, The slave rise up and begone, And thou too shalt sit in dust O daughter of Babylon.
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "By the Waters of Babylon", subtitle: "By the Waters of Babylon"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]