Dream Land (Allan Loucks): Difference between revisions

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==Original text and translations==
==Original text and translations==
{{NoText}}
{{Text|English|
Where sunless rivers weep,
their waves into the deep,
she sleeps a charmed sleep,
awake her not.
Led by a single star,
she came from very far
to seek where shadows are
her pleasant lot.
 
She left the rosy morn,
she left the fields of corn,
for twilight cold and lorn
and water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
she sees the sky look pale,
and hears the nightingale
that sadly sings.
 
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
shed over brow and breast,
her face is toward the west,
the purple land.
She cannot see the grain
ripening on hill and plain,
she cannot feel the rain
upon her hand.
 
Rest, rest, for evermore
upon a mossy shore,
rest, rest at the heart's core
till time shall cease.
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.}}


[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Modern music]]
[[Category:Modern music]]

Revision as of 07:02, 28 March 2018

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  • (Posted 2018-03-27)  CPDL #49186:   
Editor: Allan Loucks (submitted 2018-03-27).   Score information: Letter, 8 pages, 176 kB   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes: Copyright 2006 ADGL Productions, Inc. (BMI)

General Information

Title: Dream Land
Composer: Allan Loucks
Lyricist: Christina Rossetti

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SSAB

Genre: SecularArt song

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.

Description:

External websites: http://www.allanloucks.com

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Where sunless rivers weep,
their waves into the deep,
she sleeps a charmed sleep,
awake her not.
Led by a single star,
she came from very far
to seek where shadows are
her pleasant lot.

She left the rosy morn,
she left the fields of corn,
for twilight cold and lorn
and water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
she sees the sky look pale,
and hears the nightingale
that sadly sings.

Rest, rest, a perfect rest
shed over brow and breast,
her face is toward the west,
the purple land.
She cannot see the grain
ripening on hill and plain,
she cannot feel the rain
upon her hand.

Rest, rest, for evermore
upon a mossy shore,
rest, rest at the heart's core
till time shall cease.
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.