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Creatures

Song Cycle by Elizabeth Maconchy (1907 - 1994)

1. The hen and the carp
 (Sung text)

Language: English 
Once, in a roostery
there lived a speckled, and when-
ever she laid an egg this hen
ecstatically cried:
'O progeny miraculous, particular spectaculous,
what a wonderful hen am I!'

Down in a pond nearby
perchance a fat and broody carp
was basking, but her ears where sharp --
she heard Dame Cackle cry:
'O progeny miraculous, particular spectaculous,
what a wonderful hen am I!'

'Ah, Cackle,' bubbled she,
'for your single egg, O silly one,
I lay at least a million;
suppose for each I cried:
"O progeny miraculous, particular spectaculous!"
what a hullaballoo there'd be!'

Text Authorship:

  • by Ian Serraillier (1912 - 1994), "The hen and the carp"

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

2. The snail
 (Sung text)

Language: English 
At sunset, when the night-dews fall
 [ ... ]

Text Authorship:

  • by John Reeves (1909 - 1978), "The snail", copyright ©

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This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

3. Rendez‑vous with a beetle
 (Sung text)

Language: English 
Meet me in Usk
 [ ... ]

Text Authorship:

  • by Emile Victor Rieu, CBE (1887 - 1972), copyright ©

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4. Tiger! Tiger!
 (Sung text)

Language: English 
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,  
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?  

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  
On what wings dare he aspire?  
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?  

What the hammer? what the chain,  
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!  

When the stars threw down their spears  
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:  
What immortal hand or eye,  
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Text Authorship:

  • by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The tyger", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Experience, no. 12, first published 1794

See other settings of this text.

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "El tigre", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • CHI Chinese (中文) [singable] (Dr Huaixing Wang) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Le tigre", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Walter A. Aue) , "Der Tiger", copyright © 2006, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Thomas F. Schubert) , "Der Tiger", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "Тигр", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

4. Cat's funeral
 (Sung text)

Language: English 
Bury her deep, down deep
 [ ... ]

Text Authorship:

  • by Emile Victor Rieu, CBE (1887 - 1972), copyright ©

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This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

6. The dove and the wren
 (Sung text)

Language: English 
The dove says "Coo, coo, what shall I do?
I shall never be able to bring up two."
"Pooh!" says the wren, "I've got ten,
And rear them all like gentlemen!"

Text Authorship:

  • from Volkslieder (Folksongs)

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

7. Cat!
 (Sung text)

Language: English 
Cat! Scat!
Atter her, atter her,
Sleeky flatterer
Spit-fire chatterer,
Scatter her, scatter her
Off her mat!
Wuff! Wuff!
Treat her rough!
Git her, git her,
Whiskery spitter!
Catch her, catch her,
Green-eyed scratcher!

Slithery, hisser,
Don't miss her!
Run till you're dithery,
Hithery, thithery
Pfitts! pfitts!
How she spits!
Spitch! Spatch!
Can't she scratch!
Scritching the bark
Of the sycamore tree,
She's reached her ark
And's hissing at me --
Pfitts! Pfitts! Wuff! Wuff!
Scat, cat! That's that!

Text Authorship:

  • by Eleanor Farjeon (1881 - 1965)

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Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, 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]
Total word count: 531
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–Emily Ezust, Founder

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