The Thames nocturne of blue and gold Changed to a Harmony in grey: A barge with ochre-coloured hay Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold The yellow fog came creeping down The bridges, till the houses' walls Seemed changed to shadows, and S. Paul's Loomed like a bubble o'er the town. Then suddenly arose the clang Of waking life; the streets were stirred With country waggons: and a bird Flew to the glistening roofs and sang. But one pale woman all alone, The daylight kissing her wan hair, Loitered beneath the gas lamps' flare, With lips of flame and heart of stone.
Wilde Thoughts. A Song-Cycle to Poems of Oscar Wilde
Song Cycle by Michael Easton (1954 - 2004)
Impression du Matin
Text Authorship:
- by Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), "Impression de Matin", from World (March 1881), revised same year and also in 1895 [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):
Set by Michael Easton (1954 - 2004), 1987 [ voice and piano ]Note: sometimes titled "Impression du Matin"; also the 'e' at the end of "nocturne" in line one is sometimes omitted.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
In the Forest
Out of the mid-wood's twilight Into the meadow's dawn, Ivory limbed and brown-eyed, Flashes my Faun! He skips through the copses singing, And his shadow dances along, And I know not which I should follow, Shadow or song! O Hunter, snare me his shadow! O Nightingale, catch me his strain! Else moonstruck with music and madness I track him in vain!
Text Authorship:
- by Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), "In the forest" [author's text checked 1 time 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):
Set by Michael Easton (1954 - 2004), 1987 [ voice and piano ]First published in Lady's Pictorial, Christmas Number 1889
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Magdalen Walks
The little white clouds are racing over the sky, And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower of March, The daffodil breaks under foot, and the tasselled larch Sways and swings as the thrush goes hurrying by. A delicate odour is borne on the wings of the morning breeze, The odour of leaves, and of grass, and of newly upturned earth, The birds are singing for joy of the Spring's glad birth, Hopping from branch to branch on the rocking trees. And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring, And the rose-bud breaks into pink on the climbing briar, And the crocus-bed is a quivering moon of fire Girdled round with the belt of an amethyst ring. And the plane to the pine-tree is whispering some tale of love Till it rustles with laughter and tosses its mantle of green, And the gloom of the wych-elm's hollow is lit with the iris sheen Of the burnished rainbow throat and the silver breast of a dove. See! the lark starts up from his bed in the meadow there, Breaking the gossamer threads and the nets of dew, And flashing adown the river, a flame of blue! The kingfisher flies like an arrow, and wounds the air.
Text Authorship:
- by Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), "Magdalen Walks" [author's text checked 1 time 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):
Set by Michael Easton (1954 - 2004), 1987 [ voice and piano ]Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
My Voice
Within the restless, hurried, modern world We took our hearts’ full pleasure—You and I, And now the white sails of our ships are furled, And spent the lading of our argosy. Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan, For very weeping is my gladness fled, Sorrow hath paled my lip’s vermilion And Ruin draws the curtains of my bed. But all this crowded life has been to thee No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell Of viols, or the music of the sea That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.
Text Authorship:
- by Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), "My Voice" [author's text checked 1 time 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):
Set by Michael Easton (1954 - 2004), 1987 [ voice and piano ]Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
The True Knowledge
Thou knowest all; I seek in vain What lands to till or sow with seed - The land is black with briar and weed, Nor cares for falling tears or rain. Thou knowest all; I sit and wait With blinded eyes and hands that fail, Till the last lifting of the veil And the first opening of the gate. Thou knowest all; I cannot see. I trust I shall not live in vain, I know that we shall meet again In some divine eternity.
Text Authorship:
- by Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), "The True Knowledge" [author's text checked 1 time 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):
Set by Michael Easton (1954 - 2004), 1987 [ voice and piano ]Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]