Hear it, oh hear it . . . . . . . . . .— The rest of this text is not
currently in the database but will be
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Seven Songs of Experience
Song Cycle by (Thomas) Gerard Victory (1921 - 1995)
1. Invocation and response
2. The sunflower  [sung text not yet checked]
Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime, Where the traveller's journey is done: Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow, Arise from their graves and aspire Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "Ah! Sun-flower! weary of time", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Experience, no. 14, first published 1794
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Ah ! tournesol !", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Elisa Rapado) , copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
3. The Little Vagabond  [sung text not yet checked]
Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold, But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm; Besides I can tell where I am used well, Such usage in heaven will never do well. But if at the Church they would give us some Ale, And a pleasant fire our souls to regale, We'd sing and we'd pray all the live-long day, Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray. Then the Parson might preach, & drink, & sing, And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring; And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church, Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch. And God, like a father rejoicing to see His children as pleasant and happy as he, Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel, But kiss him, & give him both drink and apparel.
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The Little Vagabond", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Experience, no. 17, first published 1794
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. The fly  [sung text not yet checked]
Little Fly, Thy summer's play My thoughtless hand Has brush'd away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink & sing: Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength & breath And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die.
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The fly", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Experience, no. 10, first published 1794
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "La mouche", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "Мотылёк", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
5. The Human Abstract  [sung text not yet checked]
Pity would be no more If we did not make somebody Poor; And Mercy no more could be If all were as happy as we. And mutual fear brings peace, Till the selfish loves increase: Then Cruelty knits a snare, And spreads his baits with care. He sits down with holy fears, And waters the grounds with tears; Then Humility takes its root Underneath his foot. Soon spreads the dismal shade Of Mystery over his head; And the Catterpiller and Fly Feed on the Mystery. And it bears the fruit of Deceit, Ruddy and sweet to eat; And the Raven his nest has made In its thickest shade. The Gods of the earth and sea Sought thro' Nature to find this Tree; But their search was all in vain: There grows one in the Human Brain.
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The Human Abstract", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Experience, no. 19, first published 1794
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Researcher for this page: Ahmed E. Ismail6. The sick rose  [sung text not yet checked]
O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The sick rose", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Experience, no. 9, first published 1794
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "La rosa malalta", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Jean-Pierre Granger) , "La rose malade", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Walter A. Aue) , "Die erkrankte Rose", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Die kranke Rose", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- IRI Irish (Gaelic) [singable] (Gabriel Rosenstock) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- NYN Norwegian (Nynorsk) (Are Frode Søholt) , "Elegi", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "Больная роза", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Pablo Sabat) , "Elegía"
7. The Tyger  [sung text not yet checked]
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?
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