His golden locks time hath to silver turn'd (John Dowland)

From ChoralWiki

Jump to: navigation, search

Music files

Legend.gif      Broken.gif = BROKEN LINK    Icon_pdf.gif = PDF FILE   Icon_snd.gif = MIDI FILE   Icon_ps.png = POSTSCRIPT FILE   Music Program = NOTATION FILE
Network.png = EXTERNAL SITE (DISCLAIMER)   Icon_pdf_globe.gif = EXTERNAL PDF FILE   Icon_snd_globe.gif = EXTERNAL MIDI FILE   Error.gif = SCORE ERROR   Question.gif = HELP
  • CPDL #15996: Network.pngMIDI and NoteWorthy Composer files
Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2008-02-15).   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: Files listed alphabetically by nationality and composer. Some composers have separate pages available from their country of origin page.
  • CPDL #5485: Network.png PDF, MIDI and Capella 4 files available.
Editor: Ulrich Alpers (submitted 2003-08-18).   Score information: A4   Copyright: Personal
  • CPDL #2994: Network.png PDF, MIDI, ABC and LilyPond files.
Editor: Laura Conrad (submitted 2001-09-11).   Copyright: GnuGPL
Edition notes: in partbook format.

General Information

Title: His golden locks time hath to silver turn'd
Composer: John Dowland
Lyricist: George Peele (1558?-1597)

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Lute song

Language: English
Instruments: Lute
Published: The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597), no.18

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

His golden locks Time hath to silver turned.
O Time too swift! Oh swiftness never ceasing!
His youth 'gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned,
But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing.
Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen;
Duty, faith, love are roots and ever green.

His helmet now shall make a hive for bees,
And lover's sonnets turn to holy psalms.
A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers which are Age's alms.
But though from Court to cottage he depart,
His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart.

And when he saddest sits in homely cell,
He'll teach his swains this carol for a song:
Blest be the hearts that wish my Sovereign well.
Curst be the soul that think her any wrong.
Goddess, allow this aged man his right
To be your bedesman now that was your knight.

Personal tools