There will come soft rains (Tim Blickhan): Difference between revisions
m (Text replace - ' ' to ' ') |
(added template(s)) |
||
| Line 4: | Line 4: | ||
*{{NewWork|2012-01-13}} {{CPDLno|25365}} [{{filepath:Blick-rains.pdf}} {{pdf}}] | *{{NewWork|2012-01-13}} {{CPDLno|25365}} [{{filepath:Blick-rains.pdf}} {{pdf}}] | ||
{{Editor|Tim Blickhan|2012-01-13}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|7|63}}{{Copy|Personal}} | {{Editor|Tim Blickhan|2012-01-13}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|7|63}}{{Copy|Personal}} | ||
:'''Edition notes:''' | :'''Edition notes:''' Copyright 2011 by Charles Timothy Blickhan | ||
==General Information== | ==General Information== | ||
'''Title:''' ''There Will Come Soft Rains''<br> | '''Title:''' ''There Will Come Soft Rains''<br> | ||
{{Composer|Tim Blickhan}} | {{Composer|Tim Blickhan}} | ||
{{Lyricist|Sara Teasdale| (1884-1933)}} | |||
{{Voicing|4|SATB}}<br> | {{Voicing|4|SATB}}<br> | ||
| Line 21: | Line 22: | ||
==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
{{Text|English}} | |||
<poem> | <poem> | ||
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, | There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, | ||
| Line 34: | Line 36: | ||
And spring herself when she woke at dawn | And spring herself when she woke at dawn | ||
Would scarcely know that we were gone. | Would scarcely know that we were gone. | ||
</poem> | |||
[[Category:Sheet music]] | |||
[[Category:Modern music]] | |||
Revision as of 15:50, 28 March 2012
Music files
| ICON | SOURCE |
|---|---|
 |
File details |
 |
Help |
CPDL #25365: 
- Editor: Tim Blickhan (submitted 2012-01-13). Score information: Letter, 7 pages, 63 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes: Copyright 2011 by Charles Timothy Blickhan
General Information
Title: There Will Come Soft Rains
Composer: Tim Blickhan
Lyricist: Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Unknown
Language: English
Instruments: a cappella
Published: 2011
Description: Original composition
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pool singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.