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Five Lyrics of Robert Herrick - Roger Quilter
Five Lyrics of Robert Herrick - Roger Quilter #Chorale SATB #FACILE #and by

Ye do lie,
#Roger Quilter #Five Lyrics of Robert Herrick #Forsyth Brothers Ltd #SheetMusicPlus
Choral Choir (SATB) - Level 2 - SKU: A0.1171401 Composed by Roger Quilter. 20th Century,Classical. Octavo. 24 pages. Forsyth Brothers Ltd #771738. Published by Forsyth Brothers Ltd (A0.1171401). A delightful early opus from one of the most individual English songwriters of the Twentieth Century, Roger Quilter (1877-1953). The texts are taken from the works of Seventeenth Century English poet Robert Herrick (ca 1591-1674) whose lyrics Quilter also set to music in his Opus 8 song-cycle To Julia (1905). The Opus 7 settings are dedicated to Quilter's friend Percy Grainger.FIVE LYRICS OF ROBERT HERRICK (SATB & Piano): Cupid A Dirge Morning Song To Electra To Violets  CupidLove, like a beggar came to meWith hose and doublet torn;His shirt bedangling from his knee,With hat and shoes outworn. He asked an alms; I gave him bread,And meat too for his need,Of which, when he had fully fed,He wished me all good speed.Away he went, but as he turned,In faith I know not how,He touched me so, as that I burnedAnd am tormented now. Love’s silent flames and fires obscureThen crept into my heart;And though I saw no bow, I’m sureHis finger was the dart. A DirgeHere she lies, in bed of spice,Fair as Eve in ParadiseFor her beauty was suchPoets could not praise too much.Virgins come, and in a ringHer supremest requiem sing.Then depart but see ye treadLightly, lightly o’er the dead.Morning Song Let's now take our time,While we're in our prime,And old, old age is afar off:For the evil, evil daysWill come on apace,Before we can be aware of. To ElectraI dare not ask a kiss;I dare not beg a smile;Lest, having that or this,I might grow proud the while. No, no, the utmost shareOf my desire shall beOnly to kiss the airThat lately kissèd thee. To VioletsWelcome, maids of honour!You do bringIn the SpringAnd wait upon her She has virgins manyFresh and fair;Yet you areMore sweet than anyY'are the maiden posiesAnd so graced,To be placed'Fore damask roses.Yet though thus respectedBy and byYe do lie,Poor girls, neglected.





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