Home they brought her warrior dead, Op. 68:7 (Charles Villiers Stanford): Difference between revisions

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*{{PostedDate|2017-07-24}} {{CPDLno|45586}} [[Media:Home_they_brought_her_warrior_dead_Stanford.pdf|{{pdf}}]] [[Media:Home_they_brought_her_warrior_dead_Stanford.mid|{{mid}}]] [[Media:Home_they_brought_her_warrior_dead_Stanford.capx|{{Capx}}]]
*{{PostedDate|2017-07-24}} {{CPDLno|45586}} [[Media:Home_they_brought_her_warrior_dead_Stanford.pdf|{{pdf}}]] [[Media:Home_they_brought_her_warrior_dead_Stanford.mid|{{mid}}]] [[Media:Home_they_brought_her_warrior_dead_Stanford.capx|{{Capx}}]]
{{Editor|James Gibb|2017-07-24}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|5|93}}{{Copy|CPDL}}
{{Editor|James Gibb|2017-07-24}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|5|93}}{{Copy|CPDL}}
:'''Edition notes:'''
:'''Edition notes:''' in bar 17, the second LH chord has been changed from GB{{flat}} to DFB{{flat}}, to match the RH.


==General Information==
==General Information==

Revision as of 13:51, 24 July 2017

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  • (Posted 2017-07-24)  CPDL #45586:       
Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2017-07-24).   Score information: A4, 5 pages, 93 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: in bar 17, the second LH chord has been changed from GB to DFB, to match the RH.

General Information

Title: Home they brought her warrior dead, Op. 68:7
Composer: Charles Villiers Stanford
Lyricist: Alfred Tennyson

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB

Genre: SecularPartsong

Language: English
Instruments: Piano

{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.

Description:

External websites: IMSLP

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
‘She must weep or she will die.’

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee—
Like summer tempest came her tears—
‘Sweet my child, I live for thee.’