The Penguin Book of English Song Read online

  Feste

  O Mistris mine where are you roming?

  O stay and heare, your true loues coming,

  That can sing both high and low.

  Trip no further prettie sweeting.

  Iourneys end in louers meeting,

  Euery wise mans sonne doth know.

  What is loue, tis not heereafter,

  Present mirth, hath present laughter:

  What’s to come, is still unsure.

  In delay there lies no plentie,

  Then come kisse me sweet and twentie:

  Youths a stuffe will not endure.

  (Bantock, Bax, Bush, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Chanler, Coates, Coleridge-Taylor, Dankworth, Davies, Dring, Dunhill, Fortner, Fricker, Gibbs, Hoiby, Horder, Howells, Jeffreys, Korngold, Lehmann, MacCunn, MacDowell, Morley, Parry, Quilter, Somervell, Sullivan, Taubert, Vaughan Williams, Warlock)

  ACT II, SC. IV

  ROGER QUILTER: from Three Shakespeare Songs, Op. 6 (1905)

  Come away, death (1905)

  Feste

  Come away, come away death,

  And in sad cypresse let me be laide.

  Fye away, fie away1 breath,

  I am slaine by a faire cruell maide:

  My shrowd of white, stuck all with Ew, O prepare it.

  My part of death no one so true did share it.

  Not a flower, not a flower sweete

  On my blacke coffin, let there be strewne:

  Not a friend, not a friend greet2

  My poore corpes3, where my bones shall be throwne:

  A thousand thousand sighes to saue, lay me ô where

  Sad true louer neuer find my graue, to weepe there.

  (Argento, Arne, Bantock, Blake, Borg, Brahms, Brian, Bush, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Chausson, Cornelius, Dankworth, Davies, Dring, Dunhill, Finzi, Fortner, Gurney, Heise, Henschel, Hoiby, Holst, Killmayer, Korngold, Leguerney, Loewe, Maconchy, Moeran, Sibelius, Stanford, Vaughan Williams)

  ACT V, SC. I

  ROGER QUILTER: from Five Shakespeare Songs, Op. 23 (1921)

  Hey, ho, the wind and the rain (1919)

  Feste

  When that I was and a little tine boy,

  with hey, ho, the winde and the raine:

  A foolish thing was but a toy1,

  for the raine it raineth euery day.

  But when I came to mans estate,

  with hey ho, the winde and the raine:

  Gainst Knaues and Theeues men shut their gate,

  for the raine it raineth euery day.

  But when I came alas to wiue,

  with hey ho, the winde and the raine:

  By swaggering could I neuer thriue,

  for the raine it raineth euery day.

  [But when I came vnto my beds,

  with hey ho, the winde and the raine:

  With tospottes2 still had drunken heades,

  for the raine it raineth euery day.]

  A great while ago the world begon,

  hey ho, the winde and the raine:

  But that’s all one, our Play is done,

  and wee’l striue to please you euery day.

  (Blake, Bush, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Dankworth, Davies, Dunhill, Gibbs, Gurney, Heise, Hoiby, Horder, Jeffreys, Killmayer, Korngold, Maconchy, Schumann, Sibelius, Stanford, Sviridov)

  MACBETH (1603–6)

  ACT I, SC. V; ACT II, SC. II; ACT V, SC. I

  JOSEPH HOROVITZ: Lady Macbeth – A Scena for mezzo-soprano and piano (1970)

  Horovitz writes in the Composer’s Note that accompanies the score: ‘The composer has selected the words from the speeches of Lady Macbeth. This selection is intended to portray the development of this character, from early aspirations to grandeur, to later power and finally to guilt and madness. The implication is that the scena begins after Lady Macbeth has read the report of Macbeth’s victory at the start of the play.’

  Glamys thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be

  What thou art promis’d: yet doe I feare thy Nature,

  It is too full o’th’ Milke of humane kindnesse,

  To catch the neerest way. Thou would’st be great,

  Art not without Ambition, but without

  The illnesse1 should attend it. What thou would’st highly,

  That would’st thou holily: would’st not play false,

  And yet would’st wrongly winne. […]

  High thee hither,

  That I may powre my Spirits in thine Eare,

  And chastise with the valour of my Tongue

  All that impeides thee from the Golden Round,

  Which Fate and Metaphysicall2 ayde doth seeme

  To haue thee crown’d withall. […]

  Great Glamys, worthy Cawdor,

  Greater then both, by the all-haile hereafter,

  Thy Letters haue transported me beyond

  This ignorant present, and I feele now

  The future in the instant.

  He is about it, the Doores are open:

  And the surfeted Groomes doe mock their charge

  With Snores. I haue drugg’d their Possets3,

  That Death and Nature doe contend about them,

  Whether they liue, or dye. […]

  I lay’d their Daggers ready,

  He could not misse ’em. Had he not resembled

  My Father as he slept, I had don’t. […]

  Why did you bring these Daggers from the place?

  They must lye there: goe carry them, and smeare

  The sleepie Groomes with blood. […]

  Infirme of purpose:

  Giue me the Daggers: the sleeping, and the dead,

  Are but as Pictures: ’tis the Eye of Child-hood,

  That feares a painted Deuill. If he doe bleed,

  Ile guild the Faces of the Groomes withall,

  For it must seeme their Guilt. […]

  Out damned spot: out I say. One: Two:4 Why then ’tis time to doo’t: Hell is murky. Fye, my Lord, fie, a Souldier, and affear’d? what need we feare? who knowes it, when none can call our powre to accompt: […] No more o’that my Lord, no more o’that: you marre all with this starting. […]

  Heere’s the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh […]

  Wash your hands, put on your Night-Gowne: looke not so pale, I tell you yet againe Banquo’s buried; he cannot come out on’s graue. […]

  To bed, to bed: there’s knocking at the gate: Come, come, […] giue me your hand: What’s done, cannot be vndone. To bed, to bed, to bed.

  ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA (1606–7)

  ACT II, SC. VII

  FRANZ SCHUBERT

  Song

  [translated as ‘Trinklied’, D888, by Ferdinand Mayerhofer von Grünbühel and Eduard von Bauernfeld] (1826/1850)

  Come thou Monarch of the Vine,

  Plumpie Bacchus, with pinke eyne1:

  In thy Fattes our Cares be drown’d,

  With thy Grapes our haires be Crown’d.

  Cup vs till the world go round,

  Cup vs till the world go round.

  CYMBELINE (?1609/10)

  ACT II, SC. III

  FRANZ SCHUBERT

  Hark, hark, the lark

  [translated as ‘Ständchen’, D889, by August Wilhelm von Schlegel] (1826/1830)

  Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings,

  and Phœbus gins arise,

  His Steeds to water at those Springs

  on chalic’d Flowres that lyes:

  And winking Mary-buds1 begin to ope their Golden eyes

  With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arise:

  Arise, arise.

  (Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Hiller, Killmayer, Kilpinen, Marzials, Reichardt, C. Scott)

  ACT IV, SC. II

  GERALD FINZI: from Let Us Garlands Bring, Op. 18 (1942)

  Fear no more the heat of the sun (1929)

  Guiderius

  Feare no more the heate o’th’Sun,

  Nor the furious Winters rages,

/>   Thou thy worldly task hast don,

  Home art gon, and tane thy wages.

  Golden Lads, and Girles all must,

  As Chimney-Sweepers come to dust.

  Arviragus

  Feare no more the frowne o’th’Great,

  Thou art past the Tirants stroake,

  Care no more to cloath and eate,

  To thee the Reede is as the Oake:

  The Scepter, Learning, Physicke must,

  All follow this and come to dust.

  Guiderius

  Feare no more the Lightning flash.

  Arviragus

  Nor th’all-dreaded Thunderstone1.

  Guiderius

  Feare not Slander, Censure rash.

  Arviragus

  Thou hast finish’d Ioy and mone.

  Both

  All Louers young, all Louers must,

  Consigne2 to thee and come to dust.

  Guiderius

  No Exorciser3 harme thee,

  Arviragus

  Nor no witch-craft charme thee.

  Guiderius

  Ghost vnlaid forbeare thee,

  Arviragus

  Nothing ill come neere thee.

  Both

  Quiet consumation haue,

  And renowned be thy graue.4

  (Arne, Blake, Brian, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Dankworth, Davies, Fortner, Gardiner, Gibbs, Horder, Howells, Lambert, Marzials, Mathias, Parry, Quilter, Vaughan Williams)

  THE WINTER’S TALE (1610/11)

  ACT IV, SC. III

  ROGER QUILTER: from Four Shakespeare Songs, Op. 30 (1933)

  When daffodils begin to peer (1933)

  Autolicus

  When Daffadils begin to peere,

  With heigh the Doxy1 ouer the dale,

  Why then comes in the sweet o’the yeere,

  For the red blood raigns in ye winters pale.

  The white sheete bleaching on the hedge,

  With hey the sweet birds, O how they sing:

  Doth set my pugging2 tooth an edge,

  For a quart of Ale is a dish for a King.

  The Larke, that tirra Lyra chaunts,

  With heigh, the Thrush and the Iay:

  Are Summer songs for me and my Aunts3

  While we lye tumbling in the hay.

  (Boyce, Bush, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Ireland, Moeran, Warlock)

  THE TEMPEST (?1611)

  ACT IV, SC. I

  RALPH VAUGHAN WILLIAMS: from Three Shakespeare Songs, for unaccompanied chorus, SATB (1951)

  The cloud-capp’d towers

  Prospero

  The Clowd-capt Towres, the gorgeous Pallaces,

  The solemne Temples, the great Globe it selfe,

  Yea, all which it inherit1, shall dissolue,

  And like this insubstantiall Pageant faded

  Leaue not a racke2 behinde: we are such stuffe

  As dreames are made on; and our little life

  Is rounded with a sleepe.

  ACT I, SC. II

  MICHAEL TIPPETT: Songs for Ariel (1961)

  Come unto these yellow sands

  Ariel

  Come vnto these yellow sands,

  and then take hands:

  Curtsied when you haue, and kist

  the wilde waues whist:

  Foote it featly heere, and there, and sweet Sprights beare

  the burthen1,

  Harke, harke, bowgh wawgh: the watch-Dogges barke,

  bowgh-wawgh.

  Hark, hark, I heare, the straine of strutting Chanticlere

  cry cockadidle-dowe.

  (Arnold, Bantock, Beach, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Dove, Dunhill, Hold, Johnson, Martin, Nystroem, Quilter, Rawsthorne)

  Full fathom five

  Ariel

  Full fadom fiue thy Father lies,

  Of his bones are Corrall made:

  Those are pearles that were his eies,

  Nothing of him that doth fade,

  But doth suffer a Sea-change

  Into something rich, & strange:1

  Sea-Nimphs hourly ring his knell:

  ding-dong.

  Harke now I heare them, ding-dong bell.

  (Arnold, Bantock, Bennett, Birtwistle, Brian, Bush, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Dove, Dunhill, Gurney, Hold, Honegger, Howells, Ireland, Jeffreys, Johnson, Killmayer, Mathias, Mellers, Parry, Quilter, Stravinsky, Vaughan Williams, Williamson)

  ACT V, SC. I

  Where the bee sucks

  Ariel

  Where the Bee sucks, there suck I,

  In a Cowslips bell, I lie,

  There I cowch when Owles doe crie,

  On the Batts backe I doe flie

  after Sommer merrily.

  Merrily, merrily, shall I liue now,

  Vnder the blossom that hangs on the Bow.

  (Arne, Bantock, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Dove, Dunhill, Hold, Humfrey, Jeffreys, Johnson, Killmayer, Martin, Moeran, Nystroem, Quilter)

  SONNETS

  Shakespeare’s sonnets are divided into two parts. It’s usually claimed that 1–126 address a beautiful young man, traditionally known as the ‘fair youth’, with whom the poet is infatuated – but many of the poems are not gender specific. Sonnets 127–54 address a lady (traditionally known as the ‘dark lady’) who has been unfaithful to the poet. It is not certain that Shakespeare ever meant the Sonnets to be published, but they eventually appeared in print on 20 May 1609 in a quarto volume called Shake-Speares Sonnets, Neuer Before Imprinted. The publisher was Thomas Thorpe. All 154 Sonnets have been set to music: see the astonishing bibliographical achievement of Bryan N. S. Gooch and David Thatcher (OUP, 1991).

  ERICH KORNGOLD: from Fünf Lieder, Op. 38 (1948)

  Sonnet 130

  [Kein Sonnenglanz im Auge]

  My mistres eyes are nothing like the Sunne,

  Currall is farre more red, then her lips red,

  If snow be white, why then her brests are dun1:

  If haires be wiers, black wiers grow on her head:

  I haue seene Roses damaskt2, red and white,

  But no such Roses see I in her cheekes,

  And in some perfumes is there more delight,

  Then in the breath that from my Mistres reekes3.

  I loue to heare her speake, yet well I know,

  That Musicke hath a farre more pleasing sound:

  I graunt I neuer saw a goddesse goe4,

  My Mistres when shee walkes treads on the ground.

  And yet by heauen I thinke my loue as rare,

  As any she beli’d with false compare.5

  BENJAMIN BRITTEN: from Nocturne, Op. 60, for tenor, seven obbligato instruments and string orchestra (1958/1959)

  Sonnet 43

  [When most I wink]

  When most I winke1 then doe mine eyes best see,

  For all the day they view things vnrespected,

  But when I sleepe, in dreames they looke on thee,

  And darkely bright, are bright in darke directed.

  Then thou whose shaddow shaddowes doth make bright,

  How would thy shadowes forme, forme happy show,

  To the cleere day with thy much cleerer light,

  When to vn-seeing eyes thy shade shines so?

  How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made,

  By looking on thee in the liuing day?

  When in dead night their faire imperfect shade,

  Through heauy sleepe on sightlesse eyes doth stay?

  All dayes are nights to see till I see thee,

  And nights bright daies when dreams do shew thee me.

  THOMAS CAMPION

  (1567–1620)

  In these English Ayres, I have chiefly aymed to couple my Words and Notes lovingly together, which will be much for him to doe that hath not power over both.

  THOMAS CAMPION: ‘To the Reader’, from Two Books of Ayres (c.1613)

  Thomas Campion, the son of a lawyer, was born in London in 1567. Having studied for a period at Cambridge, he joined Gray’s Inn, where he spent much time pursuing dramatic and musi
cal entertainments; he was never called to the Bar. In 1594 he contributed to the Gesta Grayorum of his Inn of Court, and in 1595 published Thomae Campiani Poemata, a collection of Latin poems and epigrams. Apart from his involvement in law and literature, Campion developed an interest in medicine, and in 1605 was awarded the degree of Doctor of Medicine at the University of Caen. He was active at the court of King James, writing poems and music for masques. In 1605 he was listed by Camden, together with such names as Sidney, Spenser, Drayton, Chapman and Shakespeare, as one of the ‘most pregnant witts of these our times, whom succeeding ages may justly admire’. His poetry can be profane (‘I care nor for these Ladies’) as well as spiritual (‘Neuer weather-beaten Saile’), and he was happy for his poems to be either recited or sung. We have to wait until Gurney to encounter another poet-composer of similar stature.

  The first half of Philip Rosseter’s A Booke of Ayres (1601) contained twenty-two songs by Campion. This seminal publication was nothing short of a manifesto which illustrated the new solo song’s ascendancy over the older polyphonic madrigal. Earlier books of ayres by John Dowland (1597 and 1600), Michael Cavendish (1598) and Robert Jones (1600) had allowed for performances of their songs not just as solos, but also as part songs and madrigals for as many as five voices. Rosseter and Campion, on the other hand, insisted that the voice be accompanied by a single instrument such as the lute – a decision that threw new emphasis on the importance and clarity of the words. The preface to A Booke of Ayres elaborates the new aesthetic by comparing the musical ayre to the literary epigram: brief, uncluttered and to the point:

  What Epigrams are in Poetrie, the same are Ayres in musicke, then in their chiefe perfection when they are short and well seasoned. But to clogg a light song with a long Praeludium, is to corrupt the nature of it. Manie rests in Musicke were invented either for necessitie of the fuge [frequent rests in the various voices of a polyphonic piece allow the imitative or fugal structure to be heard], or granted as a harmonicall license in songs of many parts: but in Ayres I find no use they have, unlesse it be to make a vulgar and triviall modulation seeme to the ignorant strange, and to the judiciall tedious.