Song Cycle by George Sainton Kaye Butterworth (1885-1916)

1.

Authorship

by William Ernest Henley (1849-1903) , no title, from A Book of Verses, published 1888

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In the year that's come and gone, love, his flying feather
Stooping slowly, gave us heart, and bade us walk together.
In the year that's coming on, though many a troth be broken,
We at least will not forget aught that love hath spoken.

In the year that's come and gone, dear, we wove a tether
All of gracious words and thoughts, binding two together.
In the year that's coming on with its wealth of roses
We shall weave it stronger yet, ere the circle closes.

In the year that's come and gone, in the golden weather,
Sweet, my sweet we swore to keep the watch of life together.
In the year that's coming on, rich in joy and sorrow,
We shall light our lamp and wait life's mysterious morrow.

2.

Authorship

by William Ernest Henley (1849-1903) , no title, from A Book of Verses, published 1888

Life in her creaking shoes
Goes, and more formal grows,
A round of calls and cues:
Love blows as the wind blows.

Blows! in the quiet close
As in the roaring mart,
By ways no mortal knows
Love blows into the heart.

The stars some cadence use,
Forthright the river flows,
In order fall the dews,
Love blows as the wind blows.

Blows! and what reckoning shows
The courses of his chart?
A spirit that comes and goes,
Love blows into the heart.

3.

Authorship

by William Ernest Henley (1849-1903) , no title, from A Book of Verses, published 1888

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Fill a glass with golden wine,
And the while your lips are wet
Set their perfume unto mine,
And forget
Every kiss we take and give
Leaves us less of life to live.
Yet again! Your whim and mine
In a happy while have met.
All your sweets to me resign,
Nor regret
That we press with every breath,
sighed or singing, nearer death.

4.

Authorship

by William Ernest Henley (1849-1903) , no title, from A Book of Verses, published 1888

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On the way to Kew,
By the river old and gray,
Where in the Long Ago
We laughed and loitered so,
I met a ghost today,
A ghost that told of you -
A ghost of low replies
and sweet, inscrutable eyes
Coming up from Richmond
As you used to do.

By the river old and gray,
The enchanted Long Ago
Murmured and smiled anew.
On the way to Kew,
March had the laugh of May,
The bare boughs looked aglow,
And old, immortal words
Sang in my breast like birds,
Coming up from Richmond
As I used to do.

With the life of Long ago
Lived my thought of you
By the river old and gray,
Flowing his appointed way
As I watched I knew what is so good
To know: Not in vain, not in vain,
Shall I look for you again
Coming up from Richmond
On the way to Kew.

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