How sweet the answer Echo makes To Music at night, When, rous'd by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away, o'er lawns and lakes, Goes answering light! Yet Love hath echoes truer far, And far more sweet, Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star, Of horn, or lute, or soft guitar, The songs repeat. 'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere, And only then, -- The sigh that's breath'd for one to hear, Is by that one, that only dear, Breath'd back again.
A rustling of angels
Song Cycle by Thomas Pasatieri (b. 1945)
1. How sweet the answer  [sung text not yet checked]
Text Authorship:
- by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852), "Echo", appears in Irish Melodies, first published 1821
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Écho", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Sharon Krebs) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
2. I saw
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3. What would I give  [sung text not yet checked]
What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through, Instead of this heart of stone ice-cold whatever I do! Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all. What would I give for words, if only words would come! But now in its misery my spirit has fallen dumb. O merry friends, go your own way, I have never a word to say. What would I give for tears! Not smiles but scalding tears, To wash the black mark clean, and to thaw the frost of years, To wash the stain ingrain, and to make me clean again.
Text Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "What would I give"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. Gather ye rosebuds  [sung text not yet checked]
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And [this]1 same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying. [The]2 glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, The higher he's a-getting The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; [But being spent, the worse, and worst Times, still succeed the former. ]3 Then be not coy, but use your time; And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may forever tarry.
Text Authorship:
- by Robert Herrick (1591 - 1674), "To the virgins, to make much of time"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Alfredo García) , "A las vírgenes, para que aprovechen el tiempo", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 Lawes: "that"
2 Dring: "That"
3 Lawes: "Expect not the last and worst, / Time still succeeds the former."
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
5. At the moated grange  [sung text not yet checked]
Take, o take those lips away, That so sweetly [were]1 forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights [that]2 do mislead the morn: But my kisses bring again; Seals of love, [but]3 seal'd in vain, sealed in vain. Hide, o hide those hills of snow that thy frozen bosom wears, On whose tops the pinks that grow are yet of those that April wears; But first set my poor heart free, Bound in those icy chains by thee.
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
- sometimes misattributed to William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (L. A. J. Burgersdijk)
- FIN Finnish (Suomi) (Paavo Cajander)
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Sarah L. Weller) , "Nimm, so nimm doch Deine Lippen fort", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- POL Polish (Polski) (Jan Kasprowicz) , "Śpiew Pacholęcia", Warsaw, first published 1907
Note: quoted by John Fletcher, in Bloody Brother, 1639 and by William Shakespeare, in Measure for Measure, Act IV, scene 1, c1604 (just one stanza)
1 Bishop: "are"
2 Bishop: "which"
3 Bishop: "tho'"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
6. Love's philosophy  [sung text not yet checked]
The [fountains mingle]1 with the River And the Rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one [another's being]2 mingle. Why not I with thine? - See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the [sunlight clasps]3 the earth And the moonbeams kiss the sea: What [are all these kissings]4 worth If thou kiss not me?
Text Authorship:
- by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 - 1822), "Love's philosophy"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Jaroslav Vrchlický) , "Filosofie lásky"
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Adolf Strodtmann) , "Philosophie der Liebe", appears in Lieder- und Balladenbuch amerikanischer und englischer Dichter der Gegenwart, first published 1862
- POL Polish (Polski) (Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer) , "Filozofia miłości"
1 Gounod: "fountain mingles"
2 Delius: "spirit meet and"
3 Gounod: "sunbeams clasp"
4 Delius: "is all this sweet work"; Gounod: "are all these kisses"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
7. Green grow the rushes  [sung text not yet checked]
Chorus Green grow the rashes, O ; Green grow the rashes, O ; The sweetest hours that e'er I [spend]1, Are spent amang the lasses, O. There's nought but care on ev'ry han', In ev'ry hour that passes, O: What signifies the life o' man If 'twere na for the lasses, O. The [war'ly]2 race may riches chase, And riches still may fly them, O; And tho' at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O. [But gie]3 me a canny hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie, O, [An']4 [war'ly]2 cares, and [war'ly]2 men May a' gae tapsalteerie, O ! For you sae [douce]5, ye sneer at this ; Ye're nought but senseless asses O; The wisest man the warld saw, He dearly lov'd the lasses, O. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O; Her prentice han' she tried on man, And then she made the lasses, O. (Chorus)
Text Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Green grow the rashes, O"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Ó sítin zelených"
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Les roseaux poussent verts, oh !", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Burns, Cambridge edition, Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1897, page 76.
Glossary:
Canny = gentle
Tapsalteerie = topsy-turvy
Douse = sober, prudent
2 Haydn : "warldly"
3 Haydn : "Gie"
4 Haydn : "And"
5 Haydn : "douse"
Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani
8. Art
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9. The revelation  [sung text not yet checked]
An idle poet, here and there, Looks round him, but, for all the rest, The world, unfathomably fair, Is duller than a witling's jest. Love wakes men, once a lifetime each; They lift their heavy lids, and look; And, lo, what one sweet page can teach, They read with joy, then shut the book. And give some thanks, and some blaspheme, And most forget, but, either way, That and the child's unheeded dream Is all the light of all their day.
Text Authorship:
- by Coventry (Kersey Dighton) Patmore (1823 - 1896), "The revelation"
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]10. Echo  [sung text not yet checked]
Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose [wakening]1 should have been in Paradise, Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet; Where [thirsting]2 longing eyes Watch the slow door That opening, letting in, lets out no more. Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death: Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago!
Text Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Echo", written 1854
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Echo", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 Zaimont: "waking"
2 Zaimont: "thirsty"
Note: the text inspired the orchestral work "Symphonic Rhapsody" by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1904
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
11. The old stoic  [sung text not yet checked]
Riches I hold in light esteem, And Love I laugh to scorn; And lust of fame was but a dream That vanish'd with the morn; And if I pray, the only prayer That moves my lips for me Is, "Leave the heart that now I bear, And give me liberty!" Yes, as my swift days near their goal, 'T is all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, With courage to endure.
Text Authorship:
- by Emily Brontë (1818 - 1848), "The old stoic", from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, first published 1846
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]12. Beneath the cypress shade  [sung text not yet checked]
I dug, beneath the cypress shade, What well might seem an elfin's grave; And every pledge in earth I laid, That erst thy false affection gave. I pressed them down the sod beneath; I placed one mossy stone above; And twined the rose's fading wreath Around the sepulchre of love. Frail as thy love, the flowers were dead, Ere yet the evening sun was set: But years shall see the cypress spread, Immutable as my regret.
Text Authorship:
- by Thomas Love Peacock (1785 - 1866), no title, appears in The Works of Thomas Love Peacock, Volume III, first published 1875
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]