Where gripinge grefes the hart would wounde, And dolefulle dumps the mynde oppresse, There musicke with her silver sound With spede is wont to send redresse Of trobled mynds, in every sore, Swete musicke hathe a salve in store. In joye yt maks our mirthe abounde, In woe yt cheres our hevy sprites; Be-strawghted heads relyef hath founde, By musickes pleasaunt swete delightes: Our senses all, what shall I say more? Are subjecte unto musicks lore. The Gods by musicke have theire prayse; The lyfe, the soul therein doth joye: For, as the Romayne poet sayes, In seas, whom pyrats would destroy, A dolphin saved from death most sharpe Arion playing on his harpe. O heavenly gyft, that rules the mynd, Even as the sterne dothe rule the shippe! O musicke, whom the Gods assinde To comforte manne, whom cares would nippe! Since thow both man and beste doest move, What beste ys he, wyll the disprove?
- by Richard Edwards (1523? - 1566), "A Song to the Lute in Musicke", appears in Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, from an old quarto manuscript in the Cotton Library [Vesp. A. 25], intitled, "Divers things of Henry VIII's time" with some corrections from The Paradise of Dainty Devises, 1596. [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
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- Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Johann Gottfried Herder (1744 - 1803) , "Gewalt der Tonkunst", appears in Stimmen der Völker in Liedern, in 3. Das dritte Buch. Nordwestliche Lieder ; composed by Friedrich Wilhelm Rust, Johann Xaver Sterkel, Heinrich Zöllner.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2010-12-02
Line count: 24
Word count: 157