5 Liebeslieder No. 2 - Es ist ein Schnee gefallen - Score
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Sweet Power! Sweet power of Song! Thanks flow to thee From every kind and gentle breast! That canst impart, To lowland swain or mountaineers, Joanna Baillie 56 What shall I do to shew how much I love her? Thoughts that oppress me, O how can I tell? Will my soft passion be able to move her? Language is wanting, when loving so well. Can sighs and tears, in the silence, betoken Half the distress this fond bosom must know? Is there a grace comes not playful before her?
Is there a virtue, and not in her train? Is there a swain but delights to adore her?
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Pains she a heart, but it boasts of her chain? On the Massacre of Glencoe Oh!
Tell me, Harper, wherefore flow Thy wayward notes of wail and woe Far down the desert of Glencoe, Where non may list their melody? No, not to these, for they have rest, The mist-wreath has the mountain crest, The stag his lair, the erne her nest, 57 Abode of lone security. Come draw we round a cheerful ring Come draw we round a cheerful ring And broach the foaming ale, And let the merry maiden sing, The beldame tell her tale: And let the sightless harper sit The blazing faggot by; And let the jester vent his wit, His tricks the urchin try.
Who shakes the door with angry din; And would admitted be? No, Gossip Winter, snug within, We have no room for thee. Joanna Baillie No more a rover, or hapless lover, My griefs are over, and my glass runs low.
Eichendorff-Gesänge No. 2 - Nachtzauber scored for Female Chorus
Then for that reason and for a season, We will be merry before we go. Musing on the roaring ocean Musing on the roaring ocean all mine. Which divides my love and me; Wearying Heaven in warm devotion, But ah! Or what force from my heart thy Ye whom sorrow never wounded, possession could tear? Robert Burns John Philpot Curran 60 O what did I think on, but you, with a sigh! Sir Alexander Boswell In vain to this desert my fate I deplore In vain to this desert my fate I deplore, For dark is the wildwood, and bleak is 61 Farewell bliss and farewell Nancy, Farewell bliss and farewell Nancy, Farewell fleeting joys of fancy; Hopes and fears and sights that languish Now give place to cureless anguish.
Why did I so fondly love thee? O love! Thou hast pleasures, and deep Why to wearing sorrow bring thee? Thou hast sorrows, and sore Have Why let causeless slander sting thee? Fare thee well, thou first and fairest, Note: the second verse is by Burns Fare thee well, thou best and dearest; Anne Grant the shore; The rude blasts I hear, and the white waves I see, But nought that gives shelter or confort to me.
For ever. Anne Grant Shamrock and whiskey for me! Faith, but I own I feel tender; Judy, you jill, how I burn! Both sides of chops have their turn. Refrain Fill all your cups till they foam again, Bubbles must float on the brim; He that steals first sneaking home again, Daylight is too good for him! While we have goblets to handle, While we have liquor to fill, Mirth, and one spare inch of candle, Planets may wink as they will. Refrain: Och! Lobe Gott, lobe Gott! While sickness and hunger the sinews Der dich zu loben vermag. No, enter my dwelling, my feast thou Ruft sie, er schonet die Flur.
And bold is the heart and the hand that will dare Samuel Friedrich Sauter To harm but one hair of a ringlet of thine. David Thomson When she would sing some lovely strain, Away with your proverbs, your morals, How sweet the echoes gave again and rules, Robert Burns T. Norah, the witch of Balamagairy Farewell mirth and hilarity, Love has my heart in cruel subjection; Ah me! Norah in charity Spare a fond soul one throb of affection. With one look all my courage she Pale is my cheek, - it was fair as they told shook! Firm is my soul in its hope and its duty, But oh!
Draw but one sigh from her, Let her not live thus dead to emotion. Refrain Ah me! Had we the agency Of a kindhearted feat little fairy, Good bye then to the regency, Norah, the witch of Balamagairy! The fools, thus she rules Balamagairy. Refrain Sir Alexander Boswell Thou hapless soldier Oh! Thou hapless soldier, Left unseen to moulder Here on the lonely plain. Faint - and none to cheer thee, Moaning - none to hear thee, Dying - and none near thee On this lonely plain. Read we then your story Here on the lonely plain.
Some fond maid is sighing For the hero lying Here on the lonely plain. Never, hapless soldier, Fated to behold her, Left unseen to moulder On this lonely plain.
Eichendorff-Gesänge No. 3 - Das Mädchen Sheet Music by Gustav Jenner
William Smyth But one by one, when friends are gone, Must I forsake him too. O poverty! Full sure thou art A foe the most unkind; And weary, weary is the heart That feels thee still behind. Breathe it not thou passing wind, I tell it thee alone, My Dermot is not always, kind He breaks my heart, I own, But one by one, when friends are gone, Must I forsake him too.
Come, Darby dear! And troth!
Author: Volkslieder (Folksongs)
Is not nature? I hear them. And it was, and it is always thus now, So no longer be making a fuss now: Cross words and uncivil Och, pitch to the devil! And give your old woman a buss now. Arrest thy image ere it flies; And like the fond Corinthian maid, Thus win from Art what Fate denies. My life, my love to me. Art far away, William Smyth And nought but thoughts of thee can please. Thy ship must sail, my Henry Dear sister Arts!
Of power divine, To soothe the heart when cheerless dear found, Thy ship must sail, my Henry dear, Fast comes the day, too soon, too sure; And near, with moonlight gleam to shine, And I, for one long tedious year, When all the world is darkness round. Must learn thy absence to endure.
My poor bosom, and why shouldst thou burn! With the scenes of my youth can its raptures return? Yet why at remembrance, fond heart, shouldst thou burn? They were days of delusion, and can not return. Sir Walter Scott 2. Once more I hail thee Once more I hail thee, thou gloomy December! Wild as the winter now tearing the forest, Until the last leaf of the summer is flown, Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom, Since hope is departed and comfort is gone. Robert Burns 3. How slowly moves the rising latch! How quick my heart is beating.
That worldly dame is on the watch To frown upon our meeting. His shadow in the stream I see; The very waters seem to know Dear is the freight they bear to me.
That greetings smile!