Waft me some soft and cooling breeze (Henry Carey): Difference between revisions
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==Music files== | ==Music files== | ||
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*{{PostedDate|2022-05-15}} {{CPDLno|69243}} [http://www.notamos.co.uk/148277.shtml {{net}}] | *{{PostedDate|2022-05-15}} {{CPDLno|69243}} [http://www.notamos.co.uk/148277.shtml {{net}}] | ||
{{Editor|Christopher Shaw|2022-05-15}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|2|179}}{{Copy|Creative Commons Attribution Share Alike}} | {{Editor|Christopher Shaw|2022-05-15}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|2|179}}{{Copy|Creative Commons Attribution Share Alike}} | ||
:{{EdNotes|Please click on the link for preview/playback/PDF download.}} | :{{EdNotes|Please click on the link for preview/playback/PDF download.}} |
Revision as of 00:58, 17 May 2022
Music files
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- Editor: Christopher Shaw (submitted 2022-05-15). Score information: A4, 2 pages, 179 kB Copyright: CC BY SA
- Edition notes: Please click on the link for preview/playback/PDF download.
General Information
Title: Waft me some soft and cooling breeze
Composer: Henry Carey
Lyricist: Samuel Croxall
Number of voices: 1v Voicing: Solo high
Genre: Secular, Art song
Language: English
Instruments: Unknown
First published: 1746
Description: This version, with this figured bass, from "Universal Harmony", London, 1746. The song appeared in several similar collections.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Waft me some soft and cooling breeze
To Windsor's shady, kind retreat,
Where sylvan scenes, wide-spreading trees,
Repel the raging dogstar's heat;
Where tufted grass and mossy beds
Afford a rural calm repose;
Where woodbines hang their dewy heads
And fragrant sweets around disclose.
Old oozy Thames, that flows soft by,
Along the smiling valley plays;
His glassy surface cheers the eye,
While through the flow'ry mead he strays:
His fertile banks with herbage green,
His vales with golden plenty swell;
Where e'er his purer stream is seen,
The gods of health and pleasure dwell.
Let us thy clear, thy yielding wave
With naked arm once more divide;
In thee my glowing bosom lave,
And stem thy gently rolling tide.
Lay me, with damask roses crowned,
Beneath some osier's dusky shade;
Where waterlilies paint the ground
And bubbling springs refresh the glade.
Let chaste Clarinda too be there,
In azure mantle lightly dressed;
Ye nymphs, bind up her silken hair,
Ye zephyrs, fan her panting breast;
O haste away fair maid, and bring
The muse, the kindly friend to Love;
To thee alone the muse shall sing,
And warble through the vocal grove.