Be not angry with me that I bear Your colours everywhere, All through each crowded street, And meet The wonder-light in every eye, As I go by. Each plodding wayfarer looks up to gaze, Blinded by rainbow haze, The stuff of happiness, No less, Which wraps me in its glad-hued folds Of peacock golds. Before my feet the dusty, rough-paved way Flushes beneath its gray. My steps fall ringed with light, So bright, It seems a myriad suns are strown About the town. Around me is the sound of steepled bells, And rich perfuméd smells Hang like a wind-forgotten cloud, And shroud Me from close contact with the world. I dwell impearled. You blazon me with jewelled insignia. A flaming nebula Rims in my life. And yet You set The word upon me, unconfessed To go unguessed.
Love Sweet
Song Cycle by Jennifer Higdon (b. 1960)
1. Apology  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by Amy Lowell (1874 - 1925), appears in Sword Blades and Poppy Seed
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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]2. The Giver of Stars  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
Hold your soul open for my welcoming. Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me With its clear and rippled coolness, That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest, Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory. Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me, That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire, The life and joy of tongues of flame, And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune, I may rouse the blear-eyed world, And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten.
Authorship:
- by Amy Lowell (1874 - 1925), appears in Sword Blades and Poppy Seed
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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]3. Absence  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open window. Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight. The room is filled with the strange scent Of wistaria blossoms. They sway in the moon's radiance And tap against the wall. But the cup of my heart is still, And cold, and empty. When you come, it brims Red and trembling with blood, Heart's blood for your drinking; To fill your mouth with love And the bitter-sweet taste of a soul.
Authorship:
- by Amy Lowell (1874 - 1925), appears in Sword Blades and Poppy Seed
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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]4. A Gift  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
See! I give myself to you, Beloved! My words are little jars For you to take and put upon a shelf. Their shapes are quaint and beautiful, And they have many pleasant colours and lustres To recommend them. Also the scent from them fills the room With sweetness of flowers and crushed grasses. When I shall have given you the last one You will have the whole of me, But I shall be dead.
Authorship:
- by Amy Lowell (1874 - 1925), appears in Sword Blades and Poppy Seed
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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]5. A Fixed Idea  [sung text checked 1 time]
Language: English
What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught Remembers on unceasingly; unsought The old delight is with us but to find That all recurring joy is pain refined, Become a habit, and we struggle, caught. You lie upon my heart as on a nest, Folded in peace, for you can never know How crushed I am with having you at rest Heavy upon my life. I love you so You bind my freedom from its rightful quest. In mercy lift your drooping wings and go.
Authorship:
- by Amy Lowell (1874 - 1925), appears in A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass
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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]Total word count: 498