sketch

More Elizabethan angst

o those Elizabethans and their aesthetic bitterness! Here’s a song setting sketch from a couple months ago that I never posted, but had a decent rough recording of.

words by Robert Jones, found in Lyrics from the song-books of the Elizabethan age

Once did my thoughts both ebbe and flow,
As passion did them move,
Once did I hope, straight fear again,
And then I was in love.

Once did I waking spend the night,
And told how many minutes move,
Once did I wishing waste the day,
And then I was in love.

Once by my carving true love’s knot,
The weeping trees did prove,
That wounds and tears were both our lot,
And then I was in love.

Once did I breathe another’s breath,
And in my mistress move,
Once was I not mine own at all,
And then I was in love.

Once did I Sonnet to my Saint,
My soul in numbers move,
Once did I tell a thousand lies,
And then I was in love.

Once wore I bracelets made of hair,
And collars did approve,
Once wore my clothes made out of wax,
And then I was in love.

Once in my ear did dangling hang,
A little turtle dove,
Once, in a word, I was a fool,
And then I was in love.

A Spotless Rose

Some might say that it’s January and time to stop writing Christmas songs.  But, they would be wrong.

Another one done in the space before choir, live with piano (and recorded just on phone again I’m afraid) — words by, well, translated by, Catherine Winkworth, who lived really near where I live, fun fact.

A spotless Rose is blowing
Sprung from a tender root,
Of ancient seers’ foreshowing,
Of Jesse promised fruit;
Its fairest bud unfolds to light
Amid the cold, cold winter
And in the dark midnight.

The Rose which I am singing,
Whereof Isaiah said,
Is from its sweet root springing
In Mary, purest Maid;
For through our God’s great love and might
The blessed babe she bare us
In a cold, cold winter’s night.