Eight Love Songs

Song Cycle by Edward Alexander MacDowell (1860 - 1908)

Word count: 632

1. The robin sings in the apple tree [sung text checked 1 time]

 The robin sings in the apple tree,
 The blackbird swings on the thorn,
 The day grows old and silence falls,
 Leaving my heart forlorn.

 Night brings rest to many a soul,
 Yet mine is dark with woe;
 Can I forget the days gone by
 When my love I whispered low?

 O robin, and thou blackbird brave,
 My songs of love have died.
 How could you sing as in byegone days,
 When she was at my side?

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

2. Midsummer lullaby [sung text checked 1 time]

Silver clouds are lightly sailing
Through the drowsy, trembling air,
And the golden summer sunshine
Casts a glory everywhere.

Softly sob and sigh the billows
As they dream in shadows sweet,
And the swaying reeds and rushes
Kiss the mirror at their feet.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

3. Folk song [sung text checked 1 time]

Is it the shrewd October wind
  Brings the tears into her eyes?
Does it blow so strong that she must fetch
  Her breath in sudden sighs?

The sound of his horse's feet grows faint,
  The Rider has passed from sight;
The day [dies]1 out of the crimson west,
  And coldly falls the night.

She presses her tremulous fingers tight
  Against her closèd eyes,
And on the lonesome threshold there,
  She cowers down and cries.

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Confirmed with Poems by W. D. Howells, Boston: James R. Osgood and Company, 1873, page 122.

1 Tirindelli: "glides"

Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]

4. Confidence [sung text checked 1 time]

Noonday sun or night
Have for me one light.
Love shines in it bright,
  Through deep brown eyes.

Scoffers tell a tale
That love grows pale,
That brown eyes fail.
  Ah, how wise! Ah, how wise!

Surely true love's might
Puts such fears to flight.
In those brown eyes bright
  Love never dies.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

5. The west-wind croons in the cedar-trees [sung text checked 1 time]

The west-wind croons in the cedar-trees,
The goldenrod nods by the lea,
And Maud there's love in your bony black eyes;
Can it be meant for me?

The west-wind dies in the cedar-trees,
The goldenrod droops by the lea,
And Maud there's scorn in your merry black eyes
Surely not meant for me?

The east-wind moans in the cedar-trees,
The goldenrod's dead by the lea,
And Maud you may glance with your cruel black eyes.
Winter has come to me.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

6. In the woods [sung text checked 1 time]

In the woods at eve I wandered,
Through the sunset's crimson light,
In the woods, in the woods at eve,
There sat Damon playing softly
On the flute for my delight;
So, la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la!

Ah he swore he loved me truly,
Begged me would I love him, too,
And bewitched me with his music,
As it thrilled the forest through;
So la la la la la la la la la la la ia la la la la la la!

Now my heart n'er ceases longing
For a lover proven false, proven false, proven false,
And that cruel, haunting music,
Still my restless soul enthralls.
So, la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la!

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

7. The sea [sung text checked 1 time]

One sails away to sea, to sea,
One stands on the shore and cries;
The ship goes down the world, and the light
On the sullen water dies. 

The whispering shell is mute,
And after is evil cheer;
She shall stand on the shore and cry in vain,
Many and many a year. 

But the stately wide-winged ship
Lies wrecked, lies wrecked on the unknown deep;
Far under, dead in his coral bed,
The lover lies asleep.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

8. Through the meadow [sung text checked 1 time]

The summer sun was soft and bland,
As they went through the meadow land.
Across the stream was scarce a step,
And yet she feared to try the leap;
And he to still her sweet alarm,
Must lift her over on his arm.
She could not keep the narrow way,
For still the little feet would stray,
And ever must he bend t'undo
The tangled grasses from her shoe,
From dainty rosebud lips in pout,
Must kiss the perfect flower out!
Ah, little coquette! Fair deceit!
Some things are bitter that were sweet.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]