1. |
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Fair Phyllis I saw sitting all alone
Feeding her flock near to the mountain side.
The shepherds knew not,
They knew not whither she was gone,
But after her lover Amyntas hied,
Up and down he wandered
Whilst she was missing;
When he found her,
O then they fell a-kissing.
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2. |
Il bianco e dolce cigno
01:35
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Il bianco e dolce cigno [English translation below]
cantando more, ed io
piangendo giung' al fin del viver mio.
Stran' e diversa sorte,
ch'ei more sconsolato
ed io moro beato.
Morte che nel morire
m'empie di gioia tutto e di desire.
Se nel morir, altro dolor non sento,
di mille mort' il di sarei contento.
English translation
The white and sweet swan
dies singing, and I,
weeping, reach the end of my life.
Strange and different fate,
that he dies disconsolate
and I die a blessed death,
which in dying fills me
full of joy and desire.
If in dying, were I to feel no other pain,
I would be content to die a thousand deaths a day.
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3. |
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Though Amarillis daunce in green,
like Fayrie Queene,
and sing full cleere,
Corina can with smiling cheer:
yet since their eyes make hart so sore,
hey ho, chill love no more.
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4. |
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Wohl mir, daß ich Jesum habe,
O wie feste halt ich ihn,
Daß er mir mein Herze labe,
Wenn ich krank und traurig bin.
Jesum hab ich, der mich liebet
Und sich mir zu eigen gibet;
Ach drum laß ich Jesum nicht,
Wenn mir gleich mein Herze bricht.
I am so happy to have Jesus,
o how tightly I cling to Him,
so that He delights my heart
when I am sick and sad.
I have Jesus, who loves me
and gives Himself to me as my own;
ah, therefore I will not let go of Jesus,
even if my heart may break.
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5. |
Thou visitest the Earth
02:20
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Thou visitest the earth
and blessest it and blessest it
Thou crownest the year with Thy goodness
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6. |
Discord dire sister
02:45
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Discord! dire sister of the slaughtering power,
Small at her birth, but rising every hour,
While scarce the skies her horrid head can bound,
She stalks on earth, and shakes the world around.
But lovely peace in angel form
Descending quells the rising storm
Soft ease and sweet content shall reign
And Discord never rise again
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7. |
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Dieu! qu'il la fait bon regarder
La gracieuse bonne et belle;
God! how lovely He made her,
gracious, good and beautiful.
Pour les grans biens qui sont en elle
Chascun est prest de la loüer.
All are ready to praise
her for her many virtues.
Qui se pourroit d'elle lasser?
Tousjours sa beauté renouvelle.
Who could tire of her?
Her beauty is ever fresh.
Par de ça ne de là, la mer
Ne scay dame ne damoiselle
Qui soit en tous bien parfais telle.
No matter where, the sea does not know
a lady or maiden
so perfect in every way.
C'est ung songe que d'i penser:
Dieu! qu'il la fait bon regarder!
It is but a dream to think of it.
God! how lovely you made her!
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8. |
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Quant j'ai ouy le tabourin
Sonner, pour s'en aller au may,
When I heard the little drum
call us to the Maytime frolics,
En mon lit n'en ay fait affray
Ne levé mon chef du coissin;
I didn't let it stir me from my bed
I didn't lift my head from my pillow,
En disant: il est trop matin
Ung peu je me rendormiray:
and I said "It is too early,
I will sleep some more."
Jeunes gens partent leur butin;
De nonchaloir m'accointeray
young folks share out their spoils,
But I will not care,
A lui je m'abutineray
Trouvé l'ay plus prouchain voisin;
I find my nearest neighbour
in nonchalance.
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9. |
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Yver, vous n’estes qu’un villain;
Winter, you’re just a scoundrel!
Esté est plaisant et gentil
Summer is pleasing and kind
En témoing de may et d’avril
Qui l’accompaignent soir et main.
As witness May and April,
Who accompany it evening and morning.
Esté revet champs, bois et fleurs
De sa livrée de verdure
Summer clothes fields, woods and flowers,
In its livery of green
Et de maintes autres couleurs
Par l’ordonnance de nature.
And of many other colours,
As Nature ordains.
Mais vous, Yver, trop estes plein
De nège, vent, pluye et grézil.
But you, Winter, are too full
Of snow, wind, rain and hail;
On vous deust banir en éxil.
You should be banished into exile,
Sans point flater je parle plein,
Yver, vous n’estes qu’un vilain.
I'll not flatter; I'll hold nothing back:
Winter, you’re just a scoundrel!
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10. |
16 tons
02:38
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You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Some people say a man is made outta mud
A poor man's made outta muscle and blood
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
You load sixteen tons of number ore
The Lord he says "Well bless mah soul!"
Saint Peter don't you call me: I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Some people say he's made outta mud
A poor man's made outta muscle and blood
Saint Peter don't you call me: 'cause I can't go
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
Back that is strong....
Some people say he's made outta mud
A poor man's made outta muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's a-weak and a back that's strong
Saint Peter don't you call me: 'cause I can't go
I owe.......... my soul .....
to the company store
Deeper deeper deeper deeper in debt
I owe.......... my soul .....
to the company store
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11. |
As torrents in Summer
01:43
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As torrents in summer, Half dried in their channels,
Suddenly rise, tho' the sky is still cloudlesss.
For rain has been falling.
Far off at their fountains;
So hearts that are fainting Grow full to o'erflowing,
And they that behold it, Marvel, and know not
That God at their fountains
Far off has been raining!
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12. |
The long day closes
02:49
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No star is o'er the lake, its pale watch keeping,
The moon is half awake, through grey mist creeping.
The last red leaves fall round the porch of roses,
The clock has ceased to sound. The long day closes.
Sit by the silent hearth in calm endeavour,
To count the sound of mirth, now dumb forever.
Heed not how hope believes and fate disposes:
Shadow is round the eaves. The long day closes.
The lighted windows dim are fading slowly.
The fire that was so trim now quivers lowly.
Go to the dreamless bed where grief reposes.
Thy book of toil is read. The long day closes.
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13. |
Well rung Tom boy
01:02
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Well rung, Tom boy,
Well rung Tom.
Ding dong Cuckoo well rung Tom.
The Owl and the Cuckoo the Fool and the Song.
Well sung, Cuckoo, well rung Tom.
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14. |
Das Geläut zu Speyer
01:13
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15. |
Christ Church Bells
01:08
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Verse 1
Hark, the bonny Christ Church bells!
One, two, three, four, five, six;
They sound so sweet, so wondy great, so wondrous sweet,
They sound so merrily, merrily.
Verse 2
Hark, the first and second bell!
At every day goes four and ten,
Cries - Come, come, come, come, come to prayer;
Or the Verger stoops before the Dean.
Verse 3
Ting a ling ling, goes the small bell of ten,
To call the bearers home;
There's never a man will lose his can,
Till he hears the mighty Tom.
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16. |
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Ring the Bells and the Glasses pull away.
He that leads we will set all
all the vessels in the House on their heads.
This a grand Pitcher, pull away,
tis a grand, grand Pitcher Day.
Drink, let us drink, drink, drink.
Let us drink to our power.
We'll have full sixty rounds
and out do, out do the Tower.
Our King we have again, Ring the bells,
now all your Pitchers clatter.
And may he like Gideon all
his Enemies scatter.
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17. |
La Campana
01:36
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Déjà le jour baisse [Italian orginal below]
et du haut des monts
la nuit vient épaisse
couvrir les vallons.
The day already turns to dusk
and from the high mountains
the night comes to cover
the valleys in darkness
La cloche lointaine
s'émeut lentement
et la brise entraîne
à travers la plaine
son doux tintement.
The distant bell
Is slowly roused
and the breeze carries
its soft ringing
across the plain
Vous qui passez sur la terre,
prenez espoir, prenez espoir :
voici l'heure de la prière,
la prière du soir.
You who pass by on earth
be ever hopeful;
now is the hour of prayer
the eventide prayer.
Italian original
Il sole discende, il monte s'oscura;
la bella pianura già notte coprì.
La mesta campana che s'ode
lontana col suono t'annunzia che il giorno finì.
O triste viandante sorpreso da sera l'ardente preghiera unisci a quel suon.
O triste viandante: unisci a quel suon la preghiera.
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18. |
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Süßer die Glocken nie klingen [English translation below]
Als zu der Weihnachtszeit.
S’ist als ob Engelein singen
Wieder von Frieden und Freud’,
Wie sie gesungen in seliger Nacht,
Wie sie gesungen in seliger Nacht,
Glocken mit heiligem Klang,
Klinget die Erde entlang!
Oh, wenn die Glocken erklingen,
Schnell sie das Christkindlein hört.
Tut sich vom Himmel dann schwingen,
Eilet hernieder zur Erd’.
Segnet den Vater, die Mutter,
das Kind.
Segnet den Vater, die Mutter,
das Kind.
Glocken mit heiligem Klang,
Klinget die Erde entlang!
Klinget mit lieblichem Schalle
Über die Meere noch weit,
Dass sich erfreuen doch alle
Seliger Weihnachtszeit.
Alle aufjauchzen mit herrlichem Sang.
Alle aufjauchzen mit herrlichem Sang.
Glocken mit heiligem Klang,
Klinget die Erde entlang!
[literal English translation:
Sweeter the bells never sound
Than at Christmas time
It's as if angels are singing
Again of peace and joy
As they sang on the blessed night
As they sang on the blessed night
Bells with a holy sound,
The earth rings in harmony!
Oh, when the bells ring out
Quickly the Christ Child hears them
Then swings down from heaven,
Hurries down to earth
Blesses the father, the mother,
the child.
Blesses the father, the mother,
the child.
Bells with a holy sound,
The earth rings in harmony!
Ring with lovely sounds
Very far over the seas
so that all may rejoice
in the blessed Christmas time.
All shout out in glorious song.
All shout out in glorious song.
Bells with a holy sound,
The earth rings in harmony!
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19. |
Kling Glöckchen kling
01:13
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Kling, Glöckchen, klingelingeling! [English translation below]
Kling, Glöckchen, kling!
Laßt mich ein, ihr Kinder!
Ist so kalt der Winter!
Öffnet mir die Türen!
Laßt mich nicht erfrieren!
Kling, Glöckchen, klingelingeling!
Kling, Glöckchen, kling!
Kling, Glöckchen, klingelingeling!
Kling, Glöckchen, kling!
Mädchen, hört, und Bübchen,
Macht mir auf das Stübchen!
Bring euch viele Gaben,
Sollt euch dran erlaben!
Kling, Glöckchen, klingelingeling!
Kling, Glöckchen, kling!
Kling, Glöckchen, klingelingeling!
Kling, Glöckchen, kling!
Hell erglühn die Kerzen,
Öffnet mir die Herzen,
Will drin wohnen fröhlich,
Frommes Kind, wie selig!
Kling, Glöckchen, klingelingeling!
Kling, Glöckchen, kling!
[English translation]
Ring, little bell, ringalingaling!
Ring, little bell, ring!
Let me in, you kids!
So cold is the winter!
Open the doors for me!
Don't let me freeze!
Ring, little bell, ringalingaling!
Ring, little bell, ring!
Ring, little bell, ringalingaling!
Ring, little bell, ring!
Girls, listen, and boys,
Open up the room for me!
I bring you many gifts,
You should enjoy them!
Ring, little bell, ringalingaling!
Ring, little bell, ring!
Ring, little bell, ringalingaling!
Ring, little bell, ring!
Brightly glow the candles,
Open your hearts to me,
I want to live there happily,
Devout child, how blessed!
Ring, little bell, ringalingaling!
Ring, little bell, ring!
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20. |
The Bell ringing
03:51
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One day in October, neither drunken nor sober,
O'er Broadbury Down I was making my way,
When I heard of some ringing, some dancing and singing.
I'll always remember that Jubilee day.
'Twas in Ashwater Town, the bells they did sound,
They rang for a belt and a hat laced with gold,
But the men of Northlew rang so steady and true,
that there never were better in Devon I hold.
'Twas misunderstood, for the men of Broadwood,
rang a peal on the tenor should never have been.
But the men of Northlew rang so steady and true,
A difficult matter to beat them I ween.
'Twas in Ashwater Town, the bells they did sound,
They rang for a belt and a hat laced with gold,
But the men of Northlew rang so steady and true,
that there never were better in Devon I hold.
So the Broadwoods being haughty, they said to our party,
We'll ring you a challenge again in a round.
We'll give you the chance at St Stephen's by Launceston,
The prize to the winner a note of five pounds.
'Twas in Callington Town, the bells they did sound,
They rang for a belt and a hat laced with gold,
But the men of Northlew rang so steady and true,
that there never were better in Devon I hold.
So the match it went on in good Callington.
And the music rang out o'er the valley below.
Then the old and young people, the hale and the feeble.
They came out to hear the sweet bell music sound
'Twas in Callington Town, the bells they did sound,
They rang for a belt and a hat laced with gold,
But the men of Northlew rang so steady and true,
that there never were better in Devon I hold.
Well the Broadwood once more, were obliged to give o'er.
They were beaten completely again in a round.
But the men of Northlew rang so steady and true
That no better than they in the West can be found.
'Twas in Ashwater Town then in Callington Town,
They rang for a belt and a hat laced with gold,
But the men of Northlew rang so steady and true,
that there never were better in Devon I hold.
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21. |
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22. |
Les Cloches
02:02
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Les feuilles s’ouvraient sur le bord des branches,
délicatement.
Les cloches tintaient, légères et franches,
dans le ciel clément.
Rhythmique et fervent comme une antienne,
ce lointain appel
me remémorait la blancheur chrétienne
des fleurs de l’autel.
Ces cloches parlaient d’heureuses années,
et, dans le grand bois,
semblaient reverdir les feuilles fanées,
des jours d’autrefois.
[English translation]
The leaves unfurled on branches so lightly delicate and soft.
The bells rang out so light and free in the cloudless sky
Rhythmical and fervent a distant call like the anthems of old
Called to mind the pure white lilies on holy altar's sacrifice
Those bells spoke to me of happier times now gone
And in the great wood they seemed to revive
the faded leaves of days long since passed.
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23. |
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Pastime with good company
I love and shall until I die;
Grudge who list, but none deny,
So God be pleased thus live will I.
For my pastance
Hunt, song, and dance.
My heart is set:
All goodly sport
For my comfort,
Who shall me let?
Youth must have some dalliance,
Of good or ill some pastance;
Company methinks then best
All thoughts and fancies to digest:
For idleness
Is chief mistress
Of vices all.
Then who can say
But mirth and play
Is best of all?
Company with honesty
Is virtue vices to me:
Company is good and ill
But every man has his free will.
The best ensue,
The worst eschew,
My mind shall be:
Virtue to use,
Vice to refuse,
Thus shall I use me.
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David Warin Solomons Sale, UK
Composer from UK born in 1953, concentrating on lyrical and tonal works for chamber music combinations, solo voice and choral works.
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