Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose [wakening]1 should have been in Paradise, Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet; Where [thirsting]2 longing eyes Watch the slow door That opening, letting in, lets out no more. Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death: Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago!
Song Cycle by John Musto (b. 1954)
1. Echo  [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Echo", written 1854 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Echo", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 Zaimont: "waking"
2 Zaimont: "thirsty"
Note: the text inspired the orchestral work "Symphonic Rhapsody" by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1904
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. Recuerdo  [sung text checked 1 time]
We were very tired, we were very merry - We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry. It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable - But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table, We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon; And The whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon. We were very tired, we were very merry - We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry; [And] you ate an apple, and I ate a pear, From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere; And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold, And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold. We were very tired, we were very merry - We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry. We hailed "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head, And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read; And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and pears, And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.
- by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950), appears in A Few Figs from Thistles, first published 1920 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
See other settings of this text.Researcher for this text: John Musto
3. Last Song  [sung text checked 1 time]
Goodbye, goodbye! [ ... ]
- by Louise Bogan (1897 - 1970), appears in After the Persian, first published 1937, copyright © [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]