When I lie where shades of darkness Shall no more assail mine eyes, Nor the rain make lamentation When the wind sighs; How will fare the world whose wonder Was the very proof of me? Memory fades, must the remembered Perishing be? Oh, when this my dust surrenders Hand, foot, lip, to dust again, May these loved and loving faces Please other men! May the rusting harvest hedgerow Still the Traveller's Joy entwine, And as happy children gather Posies once mine. Look thy last on all things lovely, Every hour. Let no night Seal thy sense in deathly slumber Till to delight Thou have paid thy utmost blessing; Since that all things thou wouldst praise Beauty took from those who loved them In other days.
Songs from English Poets
Song Cycle by Joseph W. Baber (b. 1937)
?. Fare well  [sung text not yet checked]
- by Walter De la Mare (1873 - 1956), "Fare well", appears in The Sunken Garden and Other Poems, first published 1917 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
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Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada and the U.S., but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
?. On the idle hill of summer  [sung text not yet checked]
On the idle hill of summer, Sleepy with the flow of streams, Far I hear the steady drummer Drumming like a noise in dreams. Far and near and low and louder, On the roads of earth go by, Dear to friends and food for powder, Soldiers marching, all to die. East and west on fields forgotten Bleach the bones of comrades slain, Lovely lads and dead and rotten; None that go return again. Far the calling bugles hollo, High the screaming fife replies, Gay the files of scarlet follow: Woman bore me, I will rise.
- by Alfred Edward Housman (1859 - 1936), no title, appears in A Shropshire Lad, no. 35, first published 1896 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
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?. In Time of "The Breaking of Nations"  [sung text not yet checked]
Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk With an old horse that stumbles and nods Half asleep as they stalk. Only thin smoke without flame From the heaps of couch-grass1; Yet this will go onward the same Though Dynasties pass. Yonder a maid and her wight2 Come whispering by: War's annals will cloud into night Ere their story die.
- by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928), "In Time of 'The Breaking of Nations'" [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- HUN Hungarian (Magyar) (Dezső Kosztolányi) , "Amikor a háború"
First published in Saturday Review, January, 1916
1 couch-grass: a type of weed.
2 wight: man.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]