Love Blows as the Wind Blows - Butterworth, George

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"Art song cycle of four movements originally for voice and string quartet, though an equally effective version exists with orchestral accompaniment. The text contends with love and longing, so the whole 10 minutes are imbued with a healthy dose of melancholy."

⌛ Epoche → Spätromantik ◈ Genre → Art songs

♯ Tonart C minor

⁄ Taktart 4/4

♬ Besetzung → B

◆ Difficulty

Fortgeschritten

↕ Tonumfang C# – E-5

¶ Sprache → Englisch

Takte 54

Textur mixed texture

Stimmen 3

Instrumente String ensemble

Seiten 21

CPDL Nr. 74790

Bearbeiter Ben Newton

Veröffentlicht 2023-08-08

Lizenz CPDL-Lizenz

♫Tonumfänge

Soprano

c' – d#''

Piano

C# – f#'

Schlagwörter

Pages_using_DynamicPageList3_parser_function Posted_in_August_2023 More_than_90_days_old More_than_30_days_old CPDL_747xy

¶Liedtext

''I'' In the year that's come and gone, love, his flying feather Stooping slowly, gave us heart, and bade us walk together. In the year that's coming on, though many a troth be broken, We at least will not forget aught that love hath spoken. In the year that's come and gone, dear, we wove a tether All of gracious words and thoughts, binding two together. In the year that's coming on with its wealth of roses We shall weave it stronger yet, ere the circle closes. In the year that's come and gone, in the golden weather, Sweet, my sweet we swore to keep the watch of life together. In the year that's coming on, rich in joy and sorrow, We shall light our lamp and wait life's mysterious morrow. ''II'' Life in her creaking shoes Goes, and more formal grows, A round of calls and cues: Love blows as the wind blows. Blows! in the quiet close As in the roaring mart, By ways no mortal knows Love blows into the heart. The stars some cadence use, Forthright the river flows, In order fall the dews, Love blows as the wind blows. Blows! and what reckoning shows The courses of his chart? A spirit that comes and goes, Love blows into the heart. ''III'' Fill a glass with golden wine, And the while your lips are wet Set their perfume unto mine, And forget Ev'ry kiss we take and give Leaves us less of life to live Yet again! Your whim and mine In a happy while have met. All your sweets to me resign, Nor regret That we press with ev'ry breath, sighed or singing, nearer death. ''IV'' On the way to Kew, By the river old and gray, Where in the Long Ago We laughed and loitered so, I met a ghost today, A ghost that told of you - A ghost of low replies and sweet, inscrutable eyes Coming up from Richmond As you used to do. By the river old and gray, The enchanted Long Ago Murmured and smiled anew. On the way to Kew, March had the laugh of May, The bare boughs looked aglow, And old, immortal words Sang in my breast like birds, Coming up from Richmond As I used to do. With the life of Lon