O Thou with dewy locks, who lookest down Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! The hills tell each other, and the list'ning Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth, And let thy holy feet visit our clime. Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee. O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head, Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.
Six Part-Songs [formerly: Four Part-Songs]
Song Cycle by Hans Gál (1890 - 1987)
1. To Spring  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "To Spring"
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Jaroslav Vrchlický) , "Jaru"
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Dir, Lenz", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "К Весне", first published 1979, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
2. Madrigal  [sung text checked 1 time]
Take, o take those lips away,
That so sweetly [were]1 forsworn;
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights [that]2 do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again;
Seals of love, [but]3 seal'd in vain, sealed in vain.
[ ... ]
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
- sometimes misattributed to William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (L. A. J. Burgersdijk)
- FIN Finnish (Suomi) (Paavo Cajander)
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Sarah L. Weller) , "Nimm, so nimm doch Deine Lippen fort", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- POL Polish (Polski) (Jan Kasprowicz) , "Śpiew Pacholęcia", Warsaw, first published 1907
Note: quoted by John Fletcher, in Bloody Brother, 1639 and by William Shakespeare, in Measure for Measure, Act IV, scene 1, c1604 (just one stanza)
1 Bishop: "are"
2 Bishop: "which"
3 Bishop: "tho'"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
3. Hymn to Diana  [sung text checked 1 time]
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heav'n to clear when day did close; Bless us then with wishèd sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short so-ever: Thou that mak'st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright.
Authorship:
- by Ben Jonson (1572 - 1637)
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Jean-Pierre Granger) , "Hymne", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- NYN Norwegian (Nynorsk) (Are Frode Søholt) , "Hymne", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Pablo Sabat) , "Himno"
4. Invocation  [sung text checked 1 time]
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
[ ... ]
I love Love--though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee --
Thou art love and life! Oh, come,
Make once more my heart thy home.
Authorship:
- by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 - 1822), "Song", first published 1824
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Jaroslav Vrchlický) , title 1: "Utečenci", title 2: "Zpěv", Prague, J. Otto, first published 1901
5. Carpe diem  [sung text checked 1 time]
Pluck the fruit and taste the pleasure, youthful lordings, of delight; whilst occasion gives you seizure, feed your fancies and your sight; after death, when you are gone, joy and pleasure is there none. Here on earth nothing is stable, Fortune's changes well are known; whilst as youth doth then enable, let your seeds of joy be sown: after death, when you are gone, joy and pleasure is there none. Feast it freely with your lovers, blithe and wanton sweets do fade; whilst that lovely Cupid hovers round about this lovely shade, sport it freely one to one: after death is pleasure none. Now the pleasant spring allureth, and both place and time invites, but, alas! what heart endureth to disclaim his sweet delights? After death, when we are gone, joy and pleasure is there none.
Authorship:
- by Thomas Lodge (1558 - 1625), "Carpe diem", written 1591
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Research team for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor] , Eva Fox-Gal6. Her rambling  [sung text checked 1 time]
My mistress, when she goes to pull the pink and rose along the river bounds, and trippeth on the grounds, and runs from rocks to rocks with lovely scattered locks, whilst amorous wind doth play with hairs so golden gay, the water waxeth clear, and fishes draw her near, the sirens sing her praise, sweet flowers perfume her ways, and Neptune, glad and fain, yields up to her his reign.
Authorship:
- by Thomas Lodge (1558 - 1625), "Her Rambling", written 1593
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Research team for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor] , Eva Fox-Gal