L'Allegro ed il Pensieroso - Parry, Charles Hubert Hastings

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⌛ Period → Late Romantic ◈ Genre → Cantatas ♬ Voicing → SATB|add=with Bass and Sopr. Solo ¶ Language → English

Parts 4

Instruments Piano

Pages 92

CPDL # 16388

Posted 2009-05-03

License Public Domain

¶Lyrics / Text

Hence loathed Melancholy Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes and sights unholy. Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There, under ebon shades, and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. But come, thou goddess fair and free, In heaven yclept Euphrosyne, And by men, heart easing Mirth. Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful Jollity, Quips and Cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. And in thy right hand lead with thee, The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew To live with her, and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free; Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Mirth and youthful Jollity Quips and Cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Sport that wrinkled Care derides, Laughter holding both his sides. And in thy right hand lead with thee The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew To live with her, and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free. To hear the Lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn arise; Then to come in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine. While the cock with lively din, Scatters the rear of darkness thin, And to the stack, or the barn door, Stoutly struts his dames before, Oft list'ning how the hounds and horn Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, From the side of some hoar hill, Through the high wood echoing shrill. Sometime walking not unseen By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green, Right against the eastern gate, Where the great sun begin