Diaphenia (Francis Pilkington): Difference between revisions

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==Original text and translations==
==Original text and translations==


{{NoText}}
{{Text|English}}
<poem>
Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly,
White as the sun, fair as the lily,
Heigh ho, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as my lambs
Are belovèd of their dams:
How blest were I if thou would'st prove me.


Diaphenia like the spreading roses,
That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
Fair sweet, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as each flower
Loves the sun's life-giving power;
For dead, thy breath to life might move me.
Diaphenia like to all things blessèd,
When all thy praises are expressèd,
Dear joy, how I do love thee!
As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king;
Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!
</poem>


[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:TTBB]]
[[Category:TTBB]]
[[Category:Renaissance music]]
[[Category:Renaissance music]]

Revision as of 13:15, 16 March 2009

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  • CPDL #7398: Network.png PDF and MIDI files
Editor: Eva Toller (submitted 2004-06-30).   Score information: A4   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes: arranged by Eva Toller, midi files available for each part

General Information

Title: Diaphenia
Composer: Francis Pilkington
Arranger: Eva Toller

Number of voices: 4vv  Voicing: TTBB
Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: English
Instruments: a cappella
Published:

Description:

External websites: http://www.evatoller.pp.se/

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly,
White as the sun, fair as the lily,
Heigh ho, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as my lambs
Are belovèd of their dams:
How blest were I if thou would'st prove me.

Diaphenia like the spreading roses,
That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
Fair sweet, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as each flower
Loves the sun's life-giving power;
For dead, thy breath to life might move me.

Diaphenia like to all things blessèd,
When all thy praises are expressèd,
Dear joy, how I do love thee!
As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king;
Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!