When the voices of children are heard on the green And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast And everything else is still. "Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down And the dews of night arise; Come, come, leave off play, and let us away Till the morning appears in the skies." "No, no, let us play, for it is yet day And we cannot go to sleep; Besides, in the sky the little birds fly And the hills are all cover'd with sheep." "Well, well, go & play till the light fades away And then go home to bed." The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh'd And all the hills echoed.
Four Songs
Song Cycle by Vernon Duke (1903 - 1969)
1. Nurse's song  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Text Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "Nurse's song", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 16, first published 1789
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. The fly  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Little Fly, Thy summer's play My thoughtless hand Has brush'd away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink & sing: Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength & breath And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die.
Text Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The fly", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Experience, no. 10, first published 1794
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "La mouche", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "Мотылёк", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
3. The blossom  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Merry, merry sparrow! Under leaves so green A happy blossom Sees you, swift as arrow, Seek your cradle narrow, Near my bosom. Pretty, pretty robin! Under leaves so green A happy blossom Hears you sobbing, sobbing, Pretty, pretty robin, Near my bosom.
Text Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The blossom", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 6, first published 1789
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. How sweet I roam'd  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
How sweet I roam'd from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, 'Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide! He shew'd me lilies for my hair, And blushing roses for my brow; He led me through his gardens fair, Where all his golden pleasures grow. With sweet May dews my wings were wet, And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage; He caught me in his silken net, And shut me in his golden cage. He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty.
Text Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "Song: How sweet I roam'd from field to field", appears in Poetical Sketches, first published 1783
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]Total word count: 343