The Pensive Autumn (Huub de Lange): Difference between revisions
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==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
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<poem> | |||
I love October better than divine | |||
May’s quick upsurge of life; | |||
The pensive autumn is more nearly mine | |||
With its quiet surcease from strife. | |||
Softened by mist, the luminous eves unfold | |||
Their shining in the west, | |||
And, trembling from each twig, few but gold | |||
Flutter the leaves to rest. | |||
Tiptoe with hope good spring, | |||
but autumn lies in patience and in faith. | |||
Resinging her midsumptuous obsequies | |||
To the gentle hand of death. | |||
To the sweet fruition of all earthly bloom spring looks | |||
but autumn she to the mystic burgeoning | |||
beyond the tomb of our ultimate mystery. | |||
Float, opalescent canopies of cloud | |||
Drop leaves to be her pall: | |||
Here lies our hope, full glorious in her shroud, | |||
And perishing promiseth all. | |||
</poem> | |||
{{DEFAULTSORT:Pensive Autumn, The (Huub de Lange)}} | {{DEFAULTSORT:Pensive Autumn, The (Huub de Lange)}} | ||
[[Category:Sheet music]] | [[Category:Sheet music]] | ||
[[Category:Modern music]] | [[Category:Modern music]] |
Revision as of 14:22, 7 April 2009
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- Editor: Huub de Lange (submitted 2006-08-11). Score information: A4, 6 pages, 98 kbytes Copyright: PersonalThis template name is reserved for future development (something in line with what was originally proposed by Pml).
General Information
Title: The Pensive Autumn
Composer: Huub de Lange
Lyricist: Alice V. Stuart (1899-1983)
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: a cappella
Published: 2004
Description: #1 from Three Stuart Songs
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
I love October better than divine
May’s quick upsurge of life;
The pensive autumn is more nearly mine
With its quiet surcease from strife.
Softened by mist, the luminous eves unfold
Their shining in the west,
And, trembling from each twig, few but gold
Flutter the leaves to rest.
Tiptoe with hope good spring,
but autumn lies in patience and in faith.
Resinging her midsumptuous obsequies
To the gentle hand of death.
To the sweet fruition of all earthly bloom spring looks
but autumn she to the mystic burgeoning
beyond the tomb of our ultimate mystery.
Float, opalescent canopies of cloud
Drop leaves to be her pall:
Here lies our hope, full glorious in her shroud,
And perishing promiseth all.