The hawthorn brave upon the green She hath a drooping smell and sad, But God put scent unto the bean To drive each lass unto her lad. And woe betide the weary hour, For my love is in Normandy, And Oh! The Scent of the bean flower Is like a burning fire in me. Fair fall the lusty thorn, She hath not curses at my hand, But would the man were never born That sowed the bean along his land!
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Text Authorship:
- by Dorothy Leigh Sayers (1893 - 1957), appears in Vials Full of Odours, first published 1919 [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):
- by Ernest John Moeran (1894 - 1950), "The bean flower", R. 24 no. 1 (1923), published 1924 [ high voice and piano ], from Two songs, no. 1, Chester [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2009-06-13
Line count: 12
Word count: 80