Are the white hours for ever fled - Callcott, John Wall

Are the white hours for ever fled - Page 1

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"A four part glee set to a poem included in the "Wiccamical chaplet", edited by George Huddesford (1749-1809). The poem is described as "Anacreontic"."

⌛ Epoche → Klassik

◈ Genre / Form Glees

♯ Tonart B- major

⁄ Taktart 3/4

♬ Besetzung → ATTB

◆ Difficulty

Fortgeschritten (Mittelstufe I)

↕ Tonumfang F – c''

¶ Sprache → Englisch

Takte 93

Textur mixed texture

Stimmen 6

Instrumente ATTB, Piano

Seiten 6

CPDL Nr. 75346

Bearbeiter Christopher Shaw

Veröffentlicht 2023-09-12

Lizenz Creative Commons Attribution Share Alike

♫Tonumfänge

Alto

g – c''

Tenor I

d – f'

Bass

F – c'

Piano

F – c'

Schlagwörter

Pages_using_DynamicPageList3_parser_function Posted_in_September_2023 More_than_90_days_old More_than_30_days_old CPDL_753xy

¶Liedtext

Note: only the lines appearing in bold were set to the music. For the original "Killing" and "heavenly", Callcott substituted, in each instance, "beautiful". '''Are the white hours for ever fled''' ''' That used to mark the cheerful day?''' '''And every blooming [killing] pleasure dead''' ''' That led the enraptured soul away?''' '''Too fast the rosy-footed train,''' ''' The blessed, delicious moments passed;''' '''Pleasure must now give way to pain,''' ''' And grief succeeds to joy at last.''' '''O, daughters of eternal Jove!''' ''' Return with the returning year:''' '''Bring pleasure back again and love!''' ''' With blooming [heavenly] smiles again appear!''' O bring my H___y to my sight! :What happy hour will then be by? And while I'm dying with delight, :Her soul shall speak through either eye. Let sacred friendship too attend; :The man whose soul is most like mine. Bring B____, my ever dearest friend, :And fill the bowl with rosy wine : We'll grasp the minutes as they pass, :Unconscious of all future woes; Mirth, love and joy shall crown each glass, :And cast our sorrows to our foes. Let every white and happy hour :Which fate has to my life decreed With rosy wings its blessings shower, :And each in order still succeed: But when the short-lived smiling store :No longer can my bliss engage, Cut off the useless thousands more :And add them to some coward's age!

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