Song Cycle by William Bolcom (1938-)

1. Introduction

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "Introduction", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 1, published 1789

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

RUS Russian [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov)

Piping down the valleys wild,
  Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
  And he laughing said to me:

"Pipe a song about a lamb."
  So I piped with merry chear.
"Piper, pipe that song again."
  So I piped: he wept to hear.

"Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
  Sing thy songs of happy chear."
So I sang the same again,
  While he wept with joy to hear.

"Piper, sit thee down and write
  In a book, that all may read."
So he vanished from my sight;
  And I pluck'd a hollow reed.

And I made a rural pen,
  And I stain'd the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
  Every child may joy to hear.

2. The echoing green

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The echoing green", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 3, published 1789

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

DUT Dutch (Lidy van Noordenburg)

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells' cheerful sound;
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing green. 

Old John, with white hair,
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk.
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say,
"Such, such were the joys
When we all--girls and boys -
In our youth-time were seen
On the echoing green."

Till the little ones, weary,
No more can be merry:
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end.
Round the laps of their mothers
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest,
And sport no more seen
On the darkening green.

3. The lamb

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The lamb", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 4, published 1789

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

RUS Russian [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov)

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and [bid]1 thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is callèd by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild:
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are callèd by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

4. The shepherd

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The shepherd", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 2, published 1789

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How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot!
   From the morn to the evening he strays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,
   And his tongue shall be fillèd with praise.

For he hears the lamb's innocent call,
   And he hears the ewe's tender reply;
He is watchful [while]1 they are in peace,
   For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

5. Infant Joy

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "Infant Joy", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 17, published 1789

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

RUS Russian [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov)

"I have no name:
I am but two days old."
What shall I call thee?
"I happy am,
Joy is my name."
Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty Joy!
Sweet Joy, but two days old.
Sweet Joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while,
Sweet joy befall thee!

6. The little black boy

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The little black boy", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 5, published 1789

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My mother bore me in the southern wild, 
  And I am black, but O! my soul is white!
White as an angel is the English child, 
  But I am black, as if bereaved of light. 

My mother taught me underneath a tree, 
  And, sitting down before the heat of day, 
She took me on her lap and kissèd me, 
  And, pointing to the East, began to say: 

"Look [at]2 the rising sun: there God does live, 
  And gives His light, and gives His heat away, 
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive 
  Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday. 

"And we are put on earth a little space, 
  That we may learn to bear the beams of love; 
And these black bodies and this sunburnt face 
  [Are]1 but a cloud, and like a shady grove. 

"For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear, 
  The cloud will vanish; we shall hear His voice, 
Saying: `Come out from the grove, my love and care,
  And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.' " 

Thus did my mother say, and kissèd me;
  And thus I say to little English boy: 
When I from black and he from white cloud free, 
  And round the tent of God like lambs we joy, 

I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear 
  To lean in joy upon our Father's knee; 
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair, 
  And be like him, and he will then love me.

7. Laughing song

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "Laughing song", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 10, published 1789

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

RUS Russian [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov)

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it; 

When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene;
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing "Ha ha he!"

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread:
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of "Ha ha he!"

8. Spring

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "Spring", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 15, published 1789

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Sound the Flute!
Now [it's]1 mute.
Birds delight
Day and Night;
Nightingale
In the dale,
Lark in Sky,
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily,
To welcome in the Year.

Little Boy,
Full of Joy;
Little Girl,
Sweet and small;
Cock does crow,
So do you;
Merry voice,
Infant noise;
Merrily, Merrily, 
To welcome in the Year.

Little Lamb,
Here I am;
Come and [lick
My white neck;]2
Let me pull
Your soft Wool;
Let me kiss
Your soft face;
Merrily, Merrily, 
[We]3 welcome in the Year.

9. A Cradle Song

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "A cradle song", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 11, published 1789

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Sweet dreams, form a shade
O'er my lovely infant's head!
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!

Sweet Sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown
Sweet Sleep, angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child!

Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight!
Sweet smiles, mother's smile,
All the livelong night beguile.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thine eyes!
Sweet moan, sweeter smile,
All the dovelike moans beguile.

Sleep, sleep, happy child!
All creation slept and smiled.
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee [thy]1 mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace;
Sweet babe, once like thee
Thy Maker lay, and wept for me:

Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When He was an infant small.
Thou His image ever see,
Heavenly face that smiles on thee!

Smiles on thee, on me, on all,
Who became an infant small;
Infant smiles are His own smiles;
Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.

10. Nurse's song

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "Nurse's song", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 16, published 1789

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When the voices of children are heard on the green 
And laughing is heard on the hill, 
My heart is at rest within my breast 
And everything else is still. 

"Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down 
And the dews of night arise; 
Come, come, leave off play, and let us away 
Till the morning appears in the skies." 

"No, no, let us play, for it is yet day 
And we cannot go to sleep; 
Besides, in the sky the little birds fly 
And the hills are all cover'd with sheep." 

"Well, well, go & play till the light fades away 
And then go home to bed." 
The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh'd 
And all the hills echoed.

11. Holy Thursday

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "Holy Thursday", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 13, published 1789

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['Twas]1 on a holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
The children walking two and two, in red and blue and green:
Gray-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of St Paul's they like Thames waters flow.

O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own.
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.

Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderlings the seats of heaven among:
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor.
Then cherish, cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

12. The blossom

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The blossom", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 6, published 1789

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Merry, merry sparrow!
Under leaves so green
A happy blossom
Sees you, swift as arrow,
Seek your cradle narrow,
Near my bosom.

Pretty, pretty robin!
Under leaves so green
A happy blossom
Hears you sobbing, sobbing,
Pretty, pretty robin,
Near my bosom.

13. Interlude

[--- Tacet ---]

14. The chimney sweeper

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The chimney sweeper", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 7, published 1789

When my mother died I was very young, 
And my father sold me while yet my tongue 
Could scarcely cry ``'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!'' 
So your chimneys I sweep, & in soot I sleep. 

There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head, 
That curl'd like a lamb's back, was shav'd: so I said 
``Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when you head's bare 
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.'' 

And so he was quiet, & that very night, 
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight! 
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, & Jack, 
Were all of them lock'd up in coffins of black. 

And by came an Angel who had a bright key, 
And he open'd the coffins & set them free; 
Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run, 
And wash in a river, and shine in the Sun. 

Then naked & white, all their bags left behind, 
They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind; 
And the Angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy, 
He'd have God for his father, & never want joy. 

And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark, 
And got with our bags & our brushes to work, 
Tho the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm, 
So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.

15. The divine image

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The divine image", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 12, published 1789

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

RUS Russian [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov)

To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
 All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
 Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
 Is God, our Father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
 Is man, His child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,
 Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
 And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime,
 That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
 Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.

And all must love the human form,
 In heathen, Turk, or Jew;
When Mercy, Love and Pity dwell
 There God is dwelling too.

16. Nocturne

[--- Tacet ---]

17. Night

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "Night", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 14, published 1789

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The sun descending in the west,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest.
And I must seek for mine.
The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.

Farewell, green fields and happy grove,
Where flocks have took delight:
Where lambs have nibbled, silent move
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen they pour blessing
And joy without ceasing
On each bud and blossom,
And each sleeping bosom.

They look in every thoughtless nest
Where birds are cover'd warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.

When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
They pitying stand and weep,
Seeking to drive their thirst away
And keep them from the sheep.
But, if they rush dreadful,
The angels, most heedful,
Receive each mild spirit,
New worlds to inherit.

And there the lion's ruddy eyes
Shall flow with tears of gold:
And pitying the tender cries,
And walking round the fold:
Saying, "Wrath, by His meekness,
And, by His health, sickness,
Are driven away
From our immortal day.

"And now beside thee, bleating lamb,
I can lie down and sleep,
Or think on Him who bore thy name,
Graze after thee, and weep.
For, wash'd in life's river,
My bright mane for ever
Shall shine like the gold
As I guard o'er the fold."

18. A Dream

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "A dream", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 18, published 1789

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

RUS Russian [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov)

Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled, wildered, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangle spray,
All heart-broke, I heard her say:

"Oh my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me."

Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, "What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?

"I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home!"

19. On another's sorrow

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "On another's sorrow", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 19, published 1789

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Can I see another's woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no!  never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear --

And not sit beside the next,
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant's tear?

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
Oh no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

He doth give his joy to all:
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe,
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not year.

Oh He gives to us his joy,
That our grief He may destroy:
Till our grief is fled and gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

20. The little boy lost

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The little boy lost", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 8, published 1789

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Set in a modified version by

by Nicolas Flagello (1928-) , "O father, O father", 1964, published 1965 [high voice and piano], from Songs from William Blake's "An Island in the Moon", no. 3.

``Father! father! where are you going? 
O do not walk so fast. 
Speak, father, speak to your little boy, 
Or else I shall be lost.'' 

The night was dark, no father was there; 
The child was wet with dew; 
The mire was deep, & the child did weep, 
And away the vapour flew.

21. The little boy found

Authorship

by William Blake (1757-1827) , "The little boy found", from Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 9, published 1789

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The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wand'ring light,
Began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
Appear'd like his father, in white.

He kissed the child, and by the hand led,
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, thro' the lonely dale,
Her little boy weeping sought.

22. Coda

[--- Tacet ---]

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