|
1. |
|
|
|
|
Cantate Domino canticum novum;
laus ejus in ecclesia sanctorum.
Laetetur Israël in eo qui fecit eum,
et filii Sion exsultent in rege suo
(Sing to the Lord a new song: let the congregation of saints praise him.
Let Israel rejoice in him that made him: and let the children of Sion be joyful in their King.)
|
|
2. |
|
|
|
|
Cantate Domino canticum novum;
laus ejus in ecclesia sanctorum.
Laetetur Israël in eo qui fecit eum,
et filii Sion exsultent in rege suo
(Sing to the Lord a new song: let the congregation of saints praise him.
Let Israel rejoice in him that made him: and let the children of Sion be joyful in their King.)
|
|
3. |
|
|
|
|
Cantate Domino canticum novum;
laus ejus in ecclesia sanctorum.
Laetetur Israël in eo qui fecit eum,
et filii Sion exsultent in rege suo
(Sing to the Lord a new song: let the congregation of saints praise him.
Let Israel rejoice in him that made him: and let the children of Sion be joyful in their King.)
|
|
4. |
|
|
|
|
Bring us in no brown bread, for that is made of bran,
Nor bring us in no white bread, for therein is no gain,
But bring us in good ale, and bring us in good ale;
For our blessed Lady’s sake, bring us in good ale.
|
|
5. |
|
|
|
|
Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting,
Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours,
And then behold your lips, where sweet Love harbours,
My eyes present me with a double doubting.
For, viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes
Whether the roses be your lips or your lips the roses.
|
|
6. |
|
|
|
|
Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting,
Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours,
And then behold your lips, where sweet Love harbours,
My eyes present me with a double doubting.
For, viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes
Whether the roses be your lips or your lips the roses.
|
|
7. |
|
|
|
|
Flow not so fast, ye fountains;
What needeth all this haste?
Swell not above your mountains,
Nor spend your time in waste.
Gentle springs, freshly your salt tears
Must still fall dropping from their spheres.
|
|
8. |
|
|
|
|
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
|
|
9. |
|
|
|
|
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
|
|
10. |
|
|
|
|
Camptown ladies sing dis song, Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Camptown race-track five miles long, Oh, doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in, Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin, Oh, doo-dah day!
Gwine to run all night!
Gwine to run all day!
I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag,
Somebody bet on de bay.
|
|
11. |
|
|
|
|
Camptown ladies sing dis song, Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Camptown race-track five miles long, Oh, doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in, Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin, Oh, doo-dah day!
Gwine to run all night!
Gwine to run all day!
I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag,
Somebody bet on de bay.
|
|
12. |
|
|
|
|
Camptown ladies sing dis song, Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Camptown race-track five miles long, Oh, doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in, Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin, Oh, doo-dah day!
Gwine to run all night!
Gwine to run all day!
I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag,
Somebody bet on de bay.
|
Arrangements, for various instrumental combinations, of songs, anthems and madrigals by various composers.
released December 11, 2016
