Mailied (Robert Franz): Difference between revisions
Richard Mix (talk | contribs) (→General Information: a bit implausible as an accompaniment & absent from IMSLP Op. 24 No. 6) |
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==General Information== | ==General Information== | ||
'''Title:''' ''May song''<br> | '''Title:''' ''May song'' (''Mailied'', Op. 24 No. 5)<br> | ||
{{Composer|Robert Franz}} | {{Composer|Robert Franz}} | ||
{{Lyricist|John Troutbeck}} | {{Lyricist|John Troutbeck}} | ||
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{{Genre|Secular|Partsongs}} | {{Genre|Secular|Partsongs}} | ||
{{Language|English}} | {{Language|English}} | ||
{{Instruments| | {{Instruments|A cappella or with keyboard reduction}} | ||
{{Pub|1|1856}} | {{Pub|1|1856}} | ||
{{Pub|2|1875|in ''[[Novello's Part-Song Book (2nd series), Vol. 12]]''|no=338}} | {{Pub|2|1875|in ''[[Novello's Part-Song Book (2nd series), Vol. 12]]''|no=338}} | ||
Revision as of 20:02, 17 January 2020
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- (Posted 2020-01-16) CPDL #56654:
- Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2020-01-16). Score information: A4, 7 pages, 124 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes: MusicXML source file(s) in compressed .mxl format.
General Information
Title: May song (Mailied, Op. 24 No. 5)
Composer: Robert Franz
Lyricist: John Troutbeck
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: A cappella or with keyboard reduction
First published: 1856
2nd published: 1875 in Novello's Part-Song Book (2nd series), Vol. 12, no. 338
Description: Translated from the German of Karl Wilhelm Osterwald. 6 Lieder für gemischten Chor Op.24, no.5.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
1 Come, greet ye May with garlands,
May, that is fair and fine;
Come, wreathe ye door and window,
And joyfully call her in.
Bestrew for her the pathway,
For her the house array,
And bid your hearts be driving
Their wonted cares away.
2 Yea, bid your hearts an entrance,
Give unto blessed May,
Since love will seem more lovely
Than all the flowers today;
The love that deep is founded,
That constant is, and true;
For truth alone can keep it,
Like May, still fresh and new.
3 The fairest rose, what were she,
If failing the air to fill,
With all the sweetest odours
She can from herself distil?
What were the worth of loving,
Unless the faithful heart
Guarded as holy the rapture
That love did once impart.
Translation by John Troutbeck