Five Songs on texts of William Blake

A facsimile of a music score paper for medium voice. The words are from poems by William Blake.Vocal, Piano11 pages; 11 x 13 1/2The Wild Flower’s Song: As I wander’d the forest, The green leaves among, I heard a wild flower Singing a song. I slept in the Earth In the silent night, I murmur’d my fe...

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Bibliographic Details
Main Author: Carl Vollrath
Format: Electronic
Published: Troy University Library
Subjects:
Online Access:http://cdm17217.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/troy2/id/18276
Description
Summary:A facsimile of a music score paper for medium voice. The words are from poems by William Blake.Vocal, Piano11 pages; 11 x 13 1/2The Wild Flower’s Song: As I wander’d the forest, The green leaves among, I heard a wild flower Singing a song. I slept in the Earth In the silent night, I murmur’d my fears And I felt delight. In the morning I went As rosy as morn, To seek for new joy; But O! met with scorn. Eternity: He who binds to himself a joy Does the winged life destroy He who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity's sunrise The Angel: I dreamt a dream! What can it mean? And that I was a maiden Queen Guarded by an Angel mild: Witless woe was ne’er beguiled! And I wept both night and day, And he wiped my tears away; And I wept both day and night, And hid from him my heart’s delight. So he took his wings, and fled; Then the morn blushed rosy red. I dried my tears, and armed my fears With ten thousand shields and spears. Soon my Angel came again; I was armed, he came in vain; For the time of youth was fled, And grey hairs were on my head. The Fly: Little fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength and breath, And the want Of thought is death, Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die. The Sick Rose: O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.