Titres les plus populaires de Crouch End Festival Chorus
Crédits
INTERPRÉTATION
Crouch End Festival Chorus
Chœur
London Mozart Players
Orchestre
William Vann
Direction d’orchestre
David Temple
Direction de chœur
James Orford
Orgue
Sarah Fox
Soprano
Simon Blendis
Direction
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Sir Charles Hubert Parry
Composition
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Paroles
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Jeremy Dibble
Ingénierie de montage
Paroles
Voice of unseen Spirits (Chorus)
Sopranos
The pale stars are gone!
For the sun, their swift shepherd,
To their folds them compelling,
In the depths of the dawn,
Hastes, in meteor-eclipsing array, and they flee
Beyond his blue dwelling,
As fawns flee the leopard.
But where are ye?
(A train of dark forms and shadows passes by confusedly, singing.)
Basses
Here, Oh, here,
We bear the bier
Of the Father of many a cancelled year!
Spectres we
Of the dead Hours be,
We bear Time to his tomb in eternity.
Chorus
Strew, Oh, strew
Hair, not yew!
Wet the dusty pall with tears, not dew!
Be the faded flowers
Of Death's bare bowers
Spread on the corpse of the King of Hours!
Haste, Oh, haste!
As shades are chased,
Trembling by day from heaven's blue waste.
We melt away,
Like dissolving spray,
From the children of a diviner day,
With the lullaby
Of the winds that die
On the bosom of their own harmony!
Voice of unseen Spirits (Chorus)
Tenors
The pine boughs are singing
Old songs with new gladness,
The billows and fountains
Fresh music are flinging!
Like the notes of a spirit from land and from sea;
The storms mock the mountains
With the thunder of gladness.
But where are ye?
Semichorus of Hours
Altos
The voice of the Spirits of Air and of Earth
Have drawn back the figured curtain of sleep,
Which cover'd our being and darken'd our birth
In the deep, in the deep,
Oh, below the deep.
Sopranos and Basses
We have heard the lute of Hope in sleep;
We have known the voice of Love in dreams;
We have felt the wand of Power, and leap
As the billows leap in the morning beams!
Chorus of Spirits
Weave the dance on the floor of the breeze,
Pierce with song heaven's silent light,
Enchant the day that too swiftly flees,
To check its flight ere the cave of Night.
Once the hungry Hours were hounds
Which chased the day like a bleeding deer,
And it limped and stumbled with many wounds
Through the nightly dells of the desert year.
But now, Oh weave the mystic measure
Of music, and dance, and shapes of light,
Let the Hours and the spirits of might and pleasure,
Like the clouds and sunbeams, unite.
Chorus of Hours (Selected Basses)
Whence come ye, so wild and so fleet,
For sandals of lightning are on your feet,
And your wings are soft and swift as thought,
And your eyes are as love that is veilèd not?
Written by: Percy Bysshe Shelley, Sir Charles Hubert Parry