Thy tones are silver melted into sound, And as I dream I see no walls around, But seem to hear A gondolier Sing sweetly down some slow Venetian stream. Italian skies—that I have never seen— I see above. (Ah, play again, my queen; Thy fingers white Fly swift and light And weave for me the golden mesh of love.) Oh, thou dusk sorceress of the dusky eyes And soft dark hair, 'T is thou that mak'st my skies So swift to change To far and strange: But far and strange, thou still dost make them fair. Now thou dost sing, and I am lost in thee As one who drowns In floods of melody. Still in thy art Give me this part, Till perfect love, the love of loving crowns.
Drei Lieder nach Paul Laurence Dunbar
by Klaus Miehling (b. 1963)
1. To a Lady playing the Harp  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872 - 1906), "To a Lady Playing the Harp"
Go to the single-text view
Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar, New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1913.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. Thou Art My Lute  [sung text checked 1 time]
Thou art my lute, by thee I sing,— My being is attuned to thee. Thou settest all my words a-wing, And meltest me to melody. Thou art my life, by thee I live, From thee proceed the joys I know; Sweetheart, thy hand has power to give The meed of love—the cup of woe. Thou art my love, by thee I lead My soul the paths of light along, From vale to vale, from mead to mead, And home it in the hills of song. My song, my soul, my life, my all, Why need I pray or make my plea, Since my petition cannot fall; For I’m already one with thee!
Authorship:
- by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872 - 1906), "Thou art my lute"
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. Invitation to Love  [sung text checked 1 time]
Come when the nights are bright with stars Or when the moon is mellow; Come when the sun his golden bars Drops on the hay-field yellow. Come in the twilight soft and gray, Come in the night or come in the day, Come, O love, whene'er you may, And you are welcome, welcome. You are sweet, O Love, dear Love, You are soft as the nesting dove. Come to my heart and bring it rest As the bird flies home to its welcome nest. Come when my heart is full of grief Or when my heart is merry; Come with the falling of the leaf Or with the redd'ning cherry. Come when the year's first blossom blows, Come when the summer gleams and glows, Come with the winter's drifting snows, And you are welcome, welcome.
Authorship:
- by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872 - 1906), "Invitation to Love", appears in Majors and Minors, first published 1895
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]