Three Poems of T. L. Beddoes

Song Cycle by Mervyn Burtch (b. 1929)

Word count: 313

?. If thou wilt ease thine heart  [sung text not yet checked]

If thou [wilt]1 ease thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
   Then sleep, dear, sleep;
And not a sorrow
   Hang any tear on your eyelashes;
   Lie still and [deep],2
   Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o' th' sun tomorrow,
   In eastern sky.

But [wilt]1 thou cure thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
   Then die, dear, die;
'Tis deeper, sweeter,
   Than on a rose bank to lie dreaming
   [With folded eye;]3
   And then alone, amid the beaming
Of love's stars, thou'lt meet her
   In eastern sky.

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1 Parry: "would'st"
2 Britten: "deep,/ With folded eye;" (moved from the second stanza)
3 omitted by Britten (moved to the first stanza); Parry: "With tranced eye"

Researcher for this text: Ted Perry

?. How many times [sung text not yet checked]

How many times do I love thee, dear?
   Tell me how many thoughts there be
         In the atmosphere
         Of a new-fall'n year,
Whose white and sable hours appear
   The latest flake of Eternity: --
So many times do I love thee, dear.

How many times do I love again?
   Tell me how many beads there are
         In a silver chain
         Of evening rain,
Unravelled from the tumbling main,
   And threading the eye of a yellow star: --
So many times do I love again.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

?. Hither haste [sung text not yet checked]

Hither haste, and gently strew
His velvet path with odorous dew
Which slept on roses cheeks a night ;
Stud the turf with the golden flower
In which the glowworm builds its bower,
And gladdens with its tender light.
Sprinkle here the twinkling shower
On each perfume-stifled flower.

Hither haste, and gently fling
All the opening buds of spring ;
And, if a drooping leaf appear,
Tinge it with this coloured roll
Which I from the rainbow stole,
And hang a spangle on its ear.
Sprinkle here the twinkling shower
On each perfume-stifled flower.

Hither haste with daffodils,
That court the glass of gliding rills,
And violets with their blue veils o'er,
And the king-cup, in whose bell
The thief of honey loves to dwell,
And paints it with his yellow store.
Sprinkle here the twinkling shower,
On each perfume-stifled flower.

Authorship

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]