to a young child Margaret, are you grieving, Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leaves, like the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Ah! as the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By & by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And yet you will weep & know why. Now no matter, child, the name: Sorrow's springs are the same. Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What heart heard of, ghost guessed: It is the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for.
Four Elegiac Songs
Song Cycle by Steven R. Gerber (b. 1948)
1. Spring and Fall  [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844 - 1889), "Spring and Fall", first published 1918 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
See other settings of this text.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. To Be Carved on a Stone at Thoor Ballylee  [sung text checked 1 time]
I, the poet William Yeats, With old mill boards and sea-green slates, And smithy work from the Gort forge, Restored this tower for my wife George; And may these characters remain When all is ruin once again.
- by William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939), "To Be Carved on a Stone at Thoor Ballylee" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
3. Full fathom five  [sung text checked 1 time]
Full fathom five thy father lies, Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: [Ding-dong.]1 Hark! now I hear them, - ding-dong bell.
- by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in The Tempest, Act I, Scene 2 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (Lidy van Noordenburg) , "Vijf vadem diep", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FIN Finnish (Suomi) (Erkki Pullinen) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy de Pourtalès)
- FRE French (Français) (Maurice Bouchor)
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (David Paley) , "Voll Faden fünf", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- IRI Irish (Gaelic) [singable] (Gabriel Rosenstock) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Tuo padre giace a una profondità di cinque tese", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Andrea Maffei) , no title, first published 1869
- NOR Norwegian (Bokmål) (Arild Bakke) , "På fem favner", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 omitted by Ives.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
4. To the Memory of Mr. Oldham  [sung text checked 1 time]
Farewell, too little, and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own: For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mold with mine. One common note on either lyre did strike, And knaves and fools we both abhorred alike. To the same goal did both our studies drive; The last set out the soonest did arrive. Thus Nisus fell upon the slippery place, While his young friend performed and won the race. O early ripe! to thy abundant store What could advancing age have added more? It might (what nature never gives the young) Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue. But satire needs not those, and wit will shine Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line: A noble error, and but seldom made, When poets are by too much force betrayed. Thy generous fruits, though gathered ere their prime, Still showed a quickness, and maturing time But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhyme. Once more, hail and farewell; farewell, thou young, But ah too short, Marcellus of our tongue; Thy brows with ivy, and with laurels bound; But fate and gloomy night encompass thee around.
- by John Dryden (1631 - 1700), "To the Memory of Mr. Oldham" [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]