Lieder – index:
Lieder – Index:
1. "A dead violet"
2. "Rough wind that moanest loud"
3. "Adoration"
4. "All things that we clasp"
5. "Blow, blow thou winter wind"
6. "Come to me in my dreams"
7. "Cradle song"
8. "Day after day"
9. "Fair daffodils"
10. "Go not, happy day"
11. "Goldenhair"
12. "If I could choose"
13. "Journey's End"
14. "Love is a rose"
15. "Love went a-riding"
16. "My pent-up tears oppress my brain"
17. "O that it were so!"
18. "So early in the morning, O"
19. "Speak to me, my love!"
20. "Strew no more red roses"
21. "Tears, idle tears"
22. "The Devon maid"
23. "The last invocation"
24. "The primrose"
25. "Three songs with viola"
26. "Thy hand in mine"
27. " 'Tis but a week"
28. "What shall I your true love tell?"
29. "When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see"
30. "Where she lies asleep"
1.
"A dead violet"
Text by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
Music by Frank Bridge
See also:
Ottorino Respighi (1879 -1936), P097 no. 2,
"Su una violetta morta" (in Italian)
The odour from the flower is gone
Which like thy kisses breathed on me;
The colour from the flower is flown
Which glowed of thee and only thee!
A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form.
It lies on my abandoned breast,
And mocks my heart which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
I weep, my tears revive it not!
I sigh, it breathes no more on me;
Its mute and uncomplaining lot
Is such as mine should be.
2.
"Rough wind that moanest loud"
Text by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
Music by Frank Bridge, "A dirge"
See also:
Charles Edward Ives (1874-1954), "Rough wind"
(1902)
Rough wind that moanest loud,
Grief too sad for song;
Wild wind when sullen cloud
Knells all [the] night long;
Sad storm, whose tears are vain,
Bare woods whose branches stain,
Deep caves and dreary main,
Wail! for the world's wrong.
3.
"Adoration"
Text by John Keats (1795-1821)
Music by Frank Bridge
See also:
Charles Edward Ives (1874-1954), "Rough wind" (1902)
Asleep! O sleep a little while, white pearl!
And let me kneel, and let me pray to thee,
And let me call Heaven's blessing on thine eyes,
And let me breathe into the happy air
That doth enfold and touch thee all about,
Vows of my slavery, my giving up,
My sudden adoration, my great love!
4.
"All things that we clasp"
Text by Emma Lazarus (1849-1887), after Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
Music by Frank Bridge
All things that we clasp and cherish
Pass like dreams we may not keep;
Human hearts forget and perish,
Human eyes must fall asleep.
5.
"Blow, blow thou winter wind "
Text by William Shakespeare (1564-1616), from As You Like It, Act II, scene VII
Music by Frank Bridge
See also:
Thomas A. Arne (1710-1778), 1740
Roger Quilter (1877-1953), op. 6 no. 3
Blow, blow thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As [man's] ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
[Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.]
Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
[Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.]
6.
"Come to me in my dreams"
Text by Matthew Arnold (1822-1888)
Music by Frank Bridge
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to all the rest as me.
Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth;
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say: My love! why suff'rest thou?
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
7.
"Cradle song"
Text by Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
Music by Frank Bridge
What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer
Till the little wings are stronger,
So she r/nests (?) a little longer
Then she flies away.
[What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?]
Baby says, like little birdie,
Let me rise and fly away.
Baby sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer
Baby too shall fly awa
8.
"Day after day"
Text by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Music by Frank Bridge
Day after day he comes and goes away.
Go, and give him a flower from my hair, my friend.
If he asks who it was that sent it,
I entreat you do not tell him my name
For he only comes and goes away.
He sits on the dust under the tree.
Spread there a seat with flowers and leaves, my friend.
His eyes are sad, and they bring sadness to my heart.
He does not speak what he has in mind;
He only comes and goes away.
9.
"Fair daffodils"
Text by Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
Music by Frank Bridge
Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon.
Stay, stay
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the evensong,
And, having pray'd together, we
Will go with you along.
We have short time to stay, as you
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
We die,
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer's rain,
Or as the pearl of morning's dew,
Ne'er to be found again.
10. "Go not, happy day"
Text by Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
Music by Frank Bridge
Go not, happy day,
From the shining fields,
Got no, happy day,
Till the maiden yields.
Rosy is the West,
Rosy is the South,
Roses are her cheeks,
And a rose her mouth.
When the happy yes
Falters from her lips,
Pass and blush the news
Over glowing ships;
Over blowing seas,
Over seas at rest,
Pass the happy news,
Blush it thro' the West;
Blush from West to East,
Blush from East to West,
Till the West is East,
Blush it thro' the West.
Rosy is the West,
Rosy is the South,
Roses are her cheeks,
And a rose her mouth.
11. "Goldenhair"
Text by James Joyce (1882-1941)
Music by Frank Bridge
Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair,
I heard you singing
A merry air.
My book is closed;
I read no more,
Watching the fire dance
On the floor.
I have left my book,
I have left my room,
For I heard you singing
Through the gloom,
Singing and singing
A merry air.
Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair.
12. "If I could choose"
Text by Thomas Asch
Music by Frank Bridge
If I could choose my paradise,
And please myself with choice of bliss,
The I would have your soft blue eyes
And rosy little mouth to kiss!
Your lips, as smooth and tender, child,
As rose leaves in a coppice wild.
If fate bade choose some sweet unrest,
To weave my troubled life a snare,
Then I would say "Her maiden breast,
And golden ripple of her hair;"
And weep amid those tresses, child,
Contented to be thus beguiled.
13. "Journey's End"
Text by Humbert Wolfe (1885-1940)
Music by Frank Bridge
What will they give me, when journey's done?
Your own room to be quiet in, Son!
Who shares it with me? There is none
Shares that cool dormitory, Son!
Who turns the sheets? There is but one
And no one needs to turn it, Son!
Who lights the candle? Everyone
Sleeps without candle all night, Son!
Who calls me after sleeping? Son!
You are not called when journey's done.
14. "Love is a rose"
Text by Leah Durand
Music by Frank Bridge
Love is a rose.
The bud unfolds in sunshine and dew,
Its incense clings round the heart of you.
Love is a rose.
Love is a rose.
Its petals wither and fall away,
The incense dies - and all in a day.
Love is a rose.
15. "Love went a-riding"
Text by Mary Coleridge (1861-1907)
Music by Frank Bridge
Love went a-riding,
Love went a-riding over the earth,
On Pegasus he rode . . .
The flowers before him sprang to birth,
And the frozen rivers flowed.
Than all the youths and the maidens cried,
"Stay here with us." "King of Kings."
But Love said, "No! for the horse I ride,
For the horse I ride has wings."
Love went a-riding . . .
16. "My pent-up tears oppress my brain"
Text by Anonymous
Music by Frank Bridge
My pent-up tears oppress my brain,
My heart is swol'n with love unsaid;
Ah! let me weep and tell my pain
And on thy shoulder rest my head
Before I die, before the soul,
Which now is mine, must re-attain
Immunity from my control
And wander, wander round the world again
Before this teased, o'er-laboured heart
forever leaves its vain employ,
Dead to its deep habitual smart
And dead to hopes of future joy.
17. "O that it were so!"
Text by Walter Savage Landor (1775-1864)
Music by Frank Bridge
It sometimes comes into my head
That we may dream, may dream when we are dead,
But I am far from sure we do.
O that it were so,
O that it were so, then my rest
Would be, would be indeed among the blest,
I should for ever dream,
I should for ever dream of you.
18. "So early in the morning, O"
Text by James Stephens (1882-1950)
Music by Frank Bridge
I cling and swing
On a branch, or sing
Thro' the cool, clear hush of morning, O!
Or fling my wing
On the air, and bring
To sleepier birds a warning, O!
That the night's in flight,
And the sun's in sight,
And the dew is the grass adorning, O!
And the green leaves swing
As I sing, sing, sing,
Up by the river,
Down the dell,
To the little wee nest,
Where the big tree fell,
So early in the morning, O!
I flit and twit
In the sun for a bit
When his light so bright is shining, O!
Or sit and fit
My plumes, or knit
Straw plaits for the nest's nice lining, O!
And she with glee
Shows unto me
Underneath her wings reclining, O!
And I sing that Peg
Has an egg, egg, egg,
Up by the oatfield,
Round the mill,
Past the meadow,
Down the hill,
So early in the morning, O!
I stoop and swoop
On the air, or loop
Thro' the trees, and then go soaring, O!
To group with a troop
On the gusty poop
While the wind behind is roaring, O!-
I skim and swim
By a cloud's red rim,
And up to the azure flooring, O!-
And my wide wings drip
As I slip, slip, slip,
Down thro' the raindrops,
Back where Peg
Broods in the nest
On the little white egg,
So early in the morning, O!
19. "Speak to me, my love!"
Text by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Music by Frank Bridge
Speak to me, my love! Tell me in words what you sang.
The night is dark. The stars are lost in clouds.
The wind is sighing through the leaves.
I will let loose my hair.
My blue cloak will cling round me like the night.
I will clasp your head to my bosom;
And there in the sweet loneliness murmur on your heart.
I will shut my eyes and listen.
I will not look in your face.
When your words are ended, we will sit still and silent.
Only the trees will whisper in the dark.
[The night will pale.] The day will dawn.
We shall look at each other's eyes and go on our different paths.
Speak to me, my love! Tell me in words what you sang.
20. "Strew no more red roses"
Text by Matthew Arnold (1822-1888)
Music by Frank Bridge
Strew no more red roses, maidens,
Leave the lilies in the dew;
Pluck, pluck cypress, O pale maidens!
Dusk, O dusk the hall with yew!
Shall I seek, that I may scorn her,
Her I lov'd at eventide?
Shall I ask, what faded mourner
Stands at daybreak, weeping by my side?
21. "Tears, idle tears"
Text by Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
Music by Frank Bridge
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Dear as remember'd kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
22. "The Devon maid"
Text by John Keats (1795-1821)
Music by Frank Bridge
Where be you going, you Devon maid?
And what have ye there in the basket?
Ye tight little fairy just fresh from the dairy,
Will you give me some cream if I ask it?
I'll put your basket all safe in the nook;
Your shawl I'll hang on a willow,
And we will sigh in the daisy's eye
And kiss on the green grass pillow.
I love your hills and I love your dales
And I love your flocks a-bleating;
But oh, on the heather to lie together
With both our hearts a-beating!
23. "The last invocation"
Text by Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
Music by Frank Bridge
At the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful, fortress'd house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks,
From the keep of the well closed doors,
Let me be wafted.
Let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks, with a whisper,
Set ope the doors, O Soul!
Tenderly! be not impatient!
(Strong is your hold, O mortal flesh!
Strong is your hold, O Love.)
24. "The primrose"
Text by Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
Music by Frank Bridge
Ask me why I send you here
This sweet Infanta of the year?
Ask me why I send to you
This Primrose thus be-pearled with dew?
I will whisper to your ears,
The sweets of love are mixed with tears.
Ask me why the flow'r does show,
So yellow-green, and sickly too?
Ask me why the stalk is weak,
And bending, yet it doth not break?
I will answer, these discover,
What fainting hopes are in a lover.
25. "Three songs with viola"
Music by Frank Bridge
I. "Music, when soft voices die"
Text by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
II. "Far, far from each other"
Text by Matthew Arnold (1822-1888)
Far, far from each other our spirits have flown,
And what heart knows another?
Ah! who knows his own?
Blow ye winds! Lift me with you!
I come to the wild.
Fold closely, O nature! Thine arms round thy child.
Ah! calm me! Restore me
And dry up my tears.
On thy high mountain platforms,
Where morn first appears.
III. Where is it that our soul doth go?
Text by Kate Freiligrath Kroeker (1845-1904), after
Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
One thing I'd know,
When we have perished,
Where is it that our soul doth go?
Where, where is the fire, that is extinguished?
Where is the wind?
Where is the wind but now did blow?
Where is it? Where is it?
Where is it that our soul doth go?
When we have perished.
26. "Thy hand in mine"
Text by Mary Coleridge (1861-1907)
Music by Frank Bridge
Thy hand in mine,
And through the world we two will go,
With love before us as a sign,
Our faces set to ev'ry foe.
My heart in thine,
Through life, through happy death the same,
We two will kneel before the shrine,
And keep alight the sacred flame.
27. " 'Tis but a week"
Text by Gerald Gould (1885-1936)
Music by Frank Bridge
'Tis but a week since down the glen
The trampling horses came.
Half a hundred fighting men
With all their spears aflame!
They laughed and clattered as they went,
And round about their way
The blackbirds sang with one consent
In the green leaves of May.
Never again shall I see them pass;
They'll come victorious never.
Their spears are withered all as grass,
Their laughter's laid for ever;
And where they clattered as they went,
And where their hearts were gay,
The blackbirds sing with one consent
In the green leaves of May.
28. "What shall I your true love tell?"
Text by Francis Thompson (1859-1907)
Music by Frank Bridge
What shall I your true love tell,
Earth forsaking maid?
What shall I your true love tell
When life's spectre's laid?
"Tell him that, our side the grave,
Maid may not believe
Life should be so sad to have,
That's so sad to leave!"
What shall I your true love tell
When I come to him?
What shall I your true love tell
Eyes growing dim?
"Tell him this, when you shall part
From a maiden pined;
That I see him with my heart,
Now my eyes are blind."
What shall I your true love tell
Speaking while is scant?
What shall I your true love tell
Death's white postulant?
"Tell him love, with speech at strife,
For last utterance saith:
`I who loved with all my life,
Loved with all my death.'"
29. "When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see"
Text by William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnet XLIII
Music by Frank Bridge, "When most I wink"
See also:
Benjamin Britten (1913-1976), op. 60 no. 8,
"When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see"
When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear days with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so?
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay?
All days are nights to see, till I see thee,
And nights bright days, when dreams do show thee me.
30. "Where she lies asleep"
Text by Mary Coleridge (1861-1907)
Music by Frank Bridge
She sleeps so lightly, that in trembling fear
Beside her, where she lies asleep, I kneel,
The rush of thought and supplication staying,
Lest by some inward sense she see and hear,
If I too clearly think, too loudly feel,
And break her rest by praying.
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