The Little Green Orchard

Song Cycle by Harry Farjeon (1878 - 1948)

Word count: 438

?. Wanderers [sung text not yet checked]

Wide are the meadows of night,
And daisies are shinng there,
Tossing their lovely dews,
Lustrous and fair;
And through these sweet fields go,
Wanderers amid the stars --
Venus, Mercury, Uranus, Neptune,
Saturn, Jupiter, Mars.

'Tired in their silver, they move,
And circling, whisper and say,
Fair are the blossoming meads of delight
Through which we stray.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

?. Silver [sung text not yet checked]

Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch 
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
[From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep]1
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.

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

  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
1 omitted by Bachlund, Britten, Duke, Gibbs.

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

?. Melmillo [sung text not yet checked]

Three and thirty birds there stood
In an elder in a wood;
Called Melmillo -- flew off three,
Leaving thirty in the tree;
Called Melmillo -- nine now gone,
And the boughs held twenty-one;
Called Melmillo -- and eighteen
Left but three to nod and preen;
Called Melmillo -- three -- two -- one --
Now of birds were feathers none.

Then stole slim Melmillo in
To that wood all dusk and green,
And with lean long palms outspread
Softly a strange dance did tread;
Not a note of music she
Had for echoing company;
All the birds were flown to rest
In the hollow of her breast;
In the wood -- thorn, elder willow --
Danced alone -- lone danced Melmillo.

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?. The little green orchard [sung text not yet checked]

Some one is always sitting there,
        In the little green orchard;
  Even when the sun is high
  In noon's unclouded sky,
  And faintly droning goes
  The bee from rose to rose,
Some one in shadow is sitting there
        In the little green orchard.

Yes, when the twilight's falling softly
        In the little green orchard;
  When the grey dew distills
  And every flower-cup fills;
  When the last blackbird says,
  'What - what!' and goes her way - ssh!
I have heard voices calling softly
        In the little green orchard

Not that I am afraid of being there,
       In the little green orchard;
  Why, when the moon's been bright,
  Shedding her lonesome light,
  And moths like ghosties come,
  And the horned snail leaves home:
I've sat there, whispering and listening there,
        In the little green orchard.

Only it's strange to be feeling there,
        In the little green orchard;
  Whether you paint or draw,
  Dig, hammer, chop or saw;
  When you are most alone,
  All but the silence gone
Some one is watching and waiting there,
        In the little green orchard.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]