In summertime on Bredon The bells they sound so clear; Round both the shires they ring them In steeples far and near, A happy noise to hear. Here of a Sunday morning My love and I would lie, And see the coloured counties, And hear the larks so high About us in the sky. The bells would ring to call her In valleys miles away; "Come all to church, good people; Good people come and pray." But here my love would stay. And I would turn and answer Among the springing thyme, "Oh, peal upon our wedding, And we will hear the chime, And come to church in time." But when the snows at Christmas On Bredon top were strown, My love rose up so early And stole out unbeknown And went to church alone. They tolled the one bell only, Groom there was none to see, The mourners followed after, And so to church went she, And would not wait for me. The bells they sound on Bredon, And still the steeples hum, "Come all to church, good people." - O noisy bells, be dumb; I hear you, I will come.
Bredon Hill and other songs
Song Cycle by George Sainton Kaye Butterworth (1885 - 1916)
1. Bredon Hill  [sung text not yet checked]
Text Authorship:
- by Alfred Edward Housman (1859 - 1936), "Bredon Hill", appears in A Shropshire Lad, no. 21, first published 1896
See other settings of this text.
Note: "Bredon" is pronounced /breedon/Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. Oh fair enough are sky and plain  [sung text not yet checked]
Oh fair enough are sky and plain, But I know fairer far: Those are as beautiful again That in the water are; The pools and rivers wash so clean The trees and clouds and air, The like on earth was never seen, And oh that I were there. These are the thoughts I often think As I stand gazing down In act upon the cressy brink To strip and dive and drown; But in the golden-sanded brooks And azure meres I spy A silly lad that longs and looks And wishes he were I.
Text Authorship:
- by Alfred Edward Housman (1859 - 1936), no title, appears in A Shropshire Lad, no. 20, first published 1896
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. When the lad for longing sighs  [sung text not yet checked]
When the lad for longing sighs, Mute and dull of cheer and pale, If at death's own door he lies, Maiden, you can heal his ail. Lovers' ills are all to buy: The wan look, the hollow tone, The hung head, the sunken eye, You can have them for your own. Buy them, buy them: eve and morn Lovers' ills are all to sell, Then you can lie down forlorn; But the lover will be well.
Text Authorship:
- by Alfred Edward Housman (1859 - 1936), no title, appears in A Shropshire Lad, no. 6, first published 1896
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. On the idle hill of summer
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.
Text Authorship:
- by Alfred Edward Housman (1859 - 1936), no title, appears in A Shropshire Lad, no. 35, first published 1896
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]5. With rue my heart is laden  [sung text not yet checked]
With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipt maiden And many a lightfoot lad. By brooks too broad for leaping The lightfoot boys are laid; The rose-lipt girls are sleeping In fields where roses fade.
Text Authorship:
- by Alfred Edward Housman (1859 - 1936), no title, appears in A Shropshire Lad, no. 54, first published 1896
See other settings of this text.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]