At her fair hands (Charles Hubert Hastings Parry): Difference between revisions
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==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
{{ | {{Text|English| | ||
At her fair hands how have I grace entreated | |||
With prayers oft repeated! | |||
Yet still my love is thwarted: | |||
Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted | |||
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no! | |||
She is most fair, though she be marble-hearted. | |||
How often have my sighs declared my anguish, | |||
Wherein I daily languish! | |||
Yet still she doth procure it: | |||
Heart, let her go, for I cannot endure it | |||
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no! | |||
She gave the wound, and she alone must cure it. | |||
The trickling tear that down my cheeks have flowed, | |||
My love have often showed, | |||
Yet still unkind I prove her. | |||
Heart, let her go, for nought I do can move her; | |||
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no! | |||
Though me she hate, I cannot choose but love her.}} | |||
[[Category:Sheet music]] | [[Category:Sheet music]] | ||
[[Category:Romantic music]] | [[Category:Romantic music]] |
Revision as of 06:05, 1 May 2016
Music files
ICON | SOURCE |
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File details | |
Help |
- (Posted 2016-05-01) CPDL #39495: Capella
- Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2016-05-01). Score information: A4, 6 pages, 94 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: At her fair hands
Composer: Charles Hubert Hastings Parry
Lyricist: Robert Jones
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: Keyboard
Published: 1898
Description: Eight Four-part Songs (1898) No.3
- Phillis
- O Love, they wrong thee much
- At her fair hands
- Home of My Heart (Arthur Benson)
- You gentle nymphs
- Come pretty wag
- Ye thrilled me once (Robert Seymour Bridges)
- Better music ne'er were known (Francis Beaumont and Fletcher)
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
At her fair hands how have I grace entreated
With prayers oft repeated!
Yet still my love is thwarted:
Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no!
She is most fair, though she be marble-hearted.
How often have my sighs declared my anguish,
Wherein I daily languish!
Yet still she doth procure it:
Heart, let her go, for I cannot endure it
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no!
She gave the wound, and she alone must cure it.
The trickling tear that down my cheeks have flowed,
My love have often showed,
Yet still unkind I prove her.
Heart, let her go, for nought I do can move her;
Say, shall she go? O no, no, no!
Though me she hate, I cannot choose but love her.