The hawthorn brave upon the green She hath a drooping smell and sad, But God put scent unto the bean To drive each lass unto her lad. And woe betide the weary hour, For my love is in Normandy, And Oh! The Scent of the bean flower Is like a burning fire in me. Fair fall the lusty thorn, She hath not curses at my hand, But would the man were never born That sowed the bean along his land!
Two songs, R. 24
Song Cycle by Ernest John Moeran (1894 - 1950)
1. The bean flower
Language: English
Text Authorship:
- by Dorothy Leigh Sayers (1893 - 1957), appears in Vials Full of Odours, first published 1919
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Researcher for this page: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]2. Impromptu in March
Language: English
I will cut you wands of willow, I will fetch you catkins yellow For a sign of March. I've a snowy silken pillow For my head, you foolish fellow -- I've no love for March! Get me buckles, bring me laces, Amber beads and chrysophrases, Fans and castanets! Lady, in the sunny places I can find you early daisies And sweet violets.
Text Authorship:
- by Doreen A. E. Wallace (1897 - 1989), first published <<1919
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Researcher for this page: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]Total word count: 141