No more be griev'd (Michael Gray): Difference between revisions

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{{Pub|1|2022}}
{{Pub|1|2022}}
{{Descr|Part of an on-going collection of SAB music; "Book of Sonnets."}}
{{Descr|Part of an on-going collection of SAB music; "Book of Sonnets."}}
{{#ExtWeb:http://graymichael.com}}
{{#ExtWeb: http://graymichael.com}}


==Original text and translations==
==Original text and translations==
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Such civil war is in my love and hate
Such civil war is in my love and hate
   That I an accessary needs must be
   That I an accessary needs must be
   To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.}}
   To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.


''William Shakespeare (Sonnet XXXV)''
''William Shakespeare (Sonnet XXXV)''}}


[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Modern music]]
[[Category:Modern music]]

Revision as of 00:17, 9 May 2022

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  • (Posted 2022-05-08)  CPDL #69127:     
Editor: Michael Gray (submitted 2022-05-08).   Score information: Letter (landscape), 6 pages, 196 kB   Copyright: CC BY NC ND
Edition notes: Please note: the license requests "no derivatives." Feel free to contact the composer if you need to make some kind of change.

General Information

Title: No more be griev'd
Composer: Michael Gray
Lyricist: William Shakespeare
Number of voices: 3vv   Voicing: SAB
Genre: SecularPartsong

Language: English
Instruments: Piano

First published: 2022
Description: Part of an on-going collection of SAB music; "Book of Sonnets."

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns and silver fountains mud,
Clouds and eclipses stain both Moon and Sun
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
My self corrupting, salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than their sins are:
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,
Thy adverse party is thy Advocate
And 'gainst my self a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate
  That I an accessary needs must be
  To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

William Shakespeare (Sonnet XXXV)