Not only in my lady's eyes Do I her beauty find, All the lore that poets prize Is garnered in her mind. She is the soul of all I sing, For, though to me belong The pipe, the shell, the string, She is the soul of all I sing And she herself is the song. There is no wisdom in my word, No music in my lay, Save what I've sweetly heard My lady sing or say.
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 13
Word count: 77