More than one cuckoo? . . . . . . . . . .— The rest of this text is not
currently in the database but will be
added as soon as we obtain it. —
Five Thomas Hardy Songs
Song Cycle by Derek Healey (b. 1936)
?. More than one cuckoo  [sung text not yet checked]
?. In Time of 'The Breaking of Nations'  [sung text not yet checked]
Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk With an old horse that stumbles and nods Half asleep as they stalk. Only thin smoke without flame From the heaps of couch-grass1; Yet this will go onward the same Though Dynasties pass. Yonder a maid and her wight2 Come whispering by: War's annals will cloud into night Ere their story die.
- by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928), "In Time of 'The Breaking of Nations'" [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- HUN Hungarian (Magyar) (Dezső Kosztolányi) , "Amikor a háború"
First published in Saturday Review, January, 1916
1 couch-grass: a type of weed.
2 wight: man.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
?. This is the weather the cuckoo likes  [sung text not yet checked]
This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly; And the little brown nightingale bills his best, And they sit outside at "The Traveller's Rest", And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, And citizens dream of the south and west, And so do I. This is the weather the shepherd shuns, And so do I; When beeches drip in browns and duns, And thresh and ply; And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe, And meadow rivulets overflow, And drops on gate bars hang in a row, And rooks in families homeward go, And so do I.
- by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928), "Weathers" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
See other settings of this text.First published in Good Housekeeping, London, May 1922
Researcher for this text: Ted Perry
?. There's no winsome woman  [sung text not yet checked]
There's no winsome woman so winsome as she; Some are flower-like in mouth, Some have fire in the eyes, Some feed a soul's drouth Trilling words music-wise; But where are these gifts all in one found to be Save in her known to me? What her thoughts are I read not, but this much I know, That she, too, will pass From the sun and the air To her cave under grass; And the world will declare, "No such woman as his passioned utterances show Walked this planet, we trow!"
- by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928), "A winsome woman", appears in Winter Words in Various Moods and Metres, first published 1928 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]