Song Cycle by Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934)

1. The dance

Authorship

by Caroline Alice Elgar, née Roberts (1848-1920) , "The dance"

  Come and hasten to the dancing,
Merry eyes will soon be glancing,
       Ha! my heart upbounds!
Come and dance a merry measure,
Quaff the bright brown ale my treasure,
       Hark! what joyous sounds!

    Sweet-heart come, on let us haste,
    On, on, no time let us waste
    With my heart I love thee
    Dance, dance, for rest we disdain
    Turn twirl and spin round again,
    With my arm I hold thee!

  Down the path the lights are gleaming,
friendly faces gladly beaming
       Welcome us with song.
Dancing makes the heart grow lighter,
Makes the world and life grow brighter
       As we dance along!

2. False love

Authorship

by Caroline Alice Elgar, née Roberts (1848-1920) , "False love"

   Now we hear the Spring's sweet voice
      Singing gladly through the world;
Bidding all the earth rejoice.

   All is merry in the field,
      Flowers grow amidst the grass,
Blossoms blue, red, white they yield.

   As I seek my maiden true,
      Sings the little lark on high
Fain to send her praises due.

   As I climb and reach her door,
      Ah! I see a rival there,
So farewell! for evermore.

   Ever true was I to thee,
      Never grieved or vexed thee, love,
False, oh! false, art thou of me.

   Now amid the forest green,
      Far from cruel eyes that mock
Will I dwell unloved, unseen.

3. Lullaby

Authorship

by Caroline Alice Elgar, née Roberts (1848-1920) , "Lullaby"

   Sleep, my son, oh! slumber softly,
While thy mother watches o'er thee,
Nothing can affright or harm thee.
     Oh! sleep, my son.

                  Far-away
               Zithers play,
               Dancing gay
               Calls to-day.

                  Vainly play
               Zithers gay!
               Here I stay
               All the day.

                  Happily
               Guarding thee,
               Peacefully
               Watching thee.

   Sleep, my son, oh! slumber softly,
While thy mother watches o'er thee,
     Oh! sleep, my son.

4. Aspiration

Authorship

by Caroline Alice Elgar, née Roberts (1848-1920) , "Aspiration"

    Over the heights the snow lies deep,
Sunk is the land in peaceful sleep;
Here by the house of God we pray,
       Lead, Lord, our souls to-day.

           Shielding, like the silent snow,
           Fall his mercies here below.

    Calmly then, like the snow-bound land,
Rest we in his protecting hand;
Bowing, we wait his mighty will:
       Lead, Lord, and guide us still.

5. On the alm

Authorship

by Caroline Alice Elgar, née Roberts (1848-1920) , "On the alm"

   A mellow bell peals near,
      It has so sweet a sound;
I know a maiden dear
      With voice as full and round.

   A sunlight alm shines clear,
      With clover blossoms sweet;
There dwells my maiden dear
      And there my love I meet.

   There flying with no fear
      The swallows pass all day,
And fast, my maiden dear,
      Sees chamois haste away.

   I cannot linger here,
      I cannot wait below;
To seek my maiden dear,
      I, to the alm1 must go.

   The mountain's call I hear,
      And up the height I bound;
I know my maiden dear
      Will mark my Juchhé2 sound.

   Rejoicing come I here
      My flaxen-haired sweet-heart;
I love thee maiden dear,
      Nay! bid me not depart!

6. The marksmen

Authorship

by Caroline Alice Elgar, née Roberts (1848-1920) , "The marksmen"

   Come from the mountain side,
Come from the valleys wide,
      See, how we muster strong,
          Tramping along!

   Rifle on shoulder sling,
Powder and bullets bring,
      Manly in mind and heart,
          Play we our part.

   Sure be each eye to-day,
Steady each hand must stay
      If in the trial we,
          Victors would be!

   Sharp is the crack! 'tis done!
Lost is the chance, or won;
      Right in the gold is it?
          Huzza! the hit!

   The sun will sink and light the west
And touch the peaks with crimson glow;
      Then shadows fill the vale with rest
          While the stars look peace on all below.

   In triumph then we take away,
And with our prizes homeward wend;
      Through meadows sweet with new-mown hay,
          A song exultant will we send.

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