Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing;
Where in the whitethorn
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.
Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool green house:
Full of sweet scents,
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
"We spread no snare;
[ ... ]
"Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be."
Christina Songs
Song Cycle by Jean Coulthard (1908 - 2000)
1. Spring quiet  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Spring fancies"
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First published in Macmillan's Magazine, 1865, rev. 1866Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. Dream love  [sung text checked 1 time]
Young Love lies sleeping In May-time of the year, Among the lilies, Lapped in [the]1 tender light: White lambs come grazing, White doves come building there; And round about him The May-bushes are white. Soft moss the pillow For oh, a softer cheek; Broad leaves cast shadow Upon the heavy eyes: There winds and waters Grow lulled and scarcely speak; There twilight lingers The longest in the skies. Young Love lies dreaming; But who [shall]2 tell the dream? A perfect sunlight On rustling forest tips; Or perfect moonlight Upon a rippling stream; Or perfect silence, Or [song]3 of cherished lips. Burn odours round him To fill the drowsy air; Weave silent dances Around him to and fro; For oh, in waking The sights are not so fair, And song and silence Are not like these below. Young Love lies dreaming Till summer days are gone,- Dreaming and drowsing Away to perfect sleep: He sees the beauty Sun hath not looked upon, And tastes the fountain Unutterably deep. Him perfect music Doth hush unto his rest, And thro' the pauses The perfect silence calms: Oh poor the voices Of earth from east to west, And poor earth's stillness Between her stately palms. Young Love lies drowsing Away to poppied death; Cool shadows deepen Across the sleeping face: So fails the summer With warm, delicious breath; And what hath autumn To give us in its place? Draw close the curtains Of branched evergreen; Change cannot touch them With fading fingers sere: Here the first violets Perhaps will bud unseen, And a dove, may be, Return to nestle here.
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Dream-Love", appears in A Welcome: Original contributions in poetry and prose, first published 1863
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View original text (without footnotes)1 omitted by Somervell.
2 Somervell: "can"
3 Somervell: "songs"
Somervell's setting ends with the following repetition of earlier lines:
Young Love lies sleeping, And round about him The May bushes are white.
Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
3. Echo  [sung text checked 1 time]
Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.
[ ... ]
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again though cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low,
As long ago, my love, how long ago!
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Echo", written 1854
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Echo", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 Zaimont: "waking"
2 Zaimont: "thirsty"
Note: the text inspired the orchestral work "Symphonic Rhapsody" by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1904
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
4. A birthday  [sung text checked 1 time]
My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a watered shoot; My heart is like an apple tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a [purple]1 sea; My heart is gladder than all these Because my love is come to me. Raise me a dais of [silk and down]2; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and [silver]3 fleur-de-lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love, is come to me.
Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "A birthday"
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Aldridge, Hall: "halcyon"
2 Parry: "purple and gold"
3 Aldridge: "tiny"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]