The Lied and Art Song Texts Page

The scribe

Language: English

 What lovely things
   Thy hand hath made,
 The smooth-plumed bird
   In its emerald shade,
 The seed of the grass,
   The speck of stone
 Which the wayfaring ant
  Stirs - and hastes on!

 Though I should sit
 By some tarn [in thy hills]1,
 Using its ink
 As the spirit wills
 To write of Earth's wonders,
 Its live, willed things,
 Flit would the ages
 On soundless wings
 Ere unto Z2
 My pen drew nigh;
 Leviathan told,
 And the honey-fly;
 And still would remain
 My wit to try -
 My worn reeds broken,
 The [dark]1 tarn dry,
 All words forgotten -
 Thou, Lord, and I.


View text without footnotes
1 omitted by Howells.
2 pronounced zed

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

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