Mailied (Robert Franz)

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German.png In original German

  • (Posted 2020-12-18)  CPDL #62034:     
Editor: Nikolaus Hold (submitted 2020-12-18).   Score information: A4, 4 pages, 98 kB   Copyright: CC BY NC
Edition notes:

English.png In English translation: May song

  • (Posted 2020-01-16)  CPDL #56654:         
Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2020-01-16).   Score information: A4, 7 pages, 124 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes:

General Information

German Title: Mailied
English Title: May song
Work: Sechs Lieder für gemischten Chor, Op.24, no.5
Composer: Robert Franz
Lyricist: Karl Wilhelm Osterwald

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: SecularPartsong

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella or with keyboard reduction

First published: 1856 Leipzig: F. Whistling
  2nd published: 1879 in Novello's Part-Song Book (2nd series), Vol. 12, no. 338

External websites:

Original text and translations

German.png German text

1  Empfangt den Mai mit Blumen,
er ist so schön und fein,
bekränzet Tür und Fenster
und ladet ihn fröhlich ein;
Bereitet ihm die Wege
und schmücket ihm das Haus,
und treibet aus euren Herzen
nun alle Sorgen aus.

2  Ja in die Herzen lasset
einzieh'n den seligen Mai
und denkt, dass ihm die Liebe
die liebste Blume sei;
die Liebe, die von Herzen
beständig ist und treu,
denn Treue nur erhält sie
stets maienfrisch und neu.

3  Was wäre die schönste Rose
erfüllte sie nicht die Luft
mit ihres süßen Hauches
balsamischem Blüthenduft?
Was wäre wohl die Liebe
wenn nicht ein treu' Gemüt
ewig die Wonne bewahrte,
die einmal ihm erblüht?

English.png 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