The Lied and Art Song Texts Page

O Love, I complain

Language: English

O Love, I complain, 
Complain of thee often, 
Because thou dost soften 
My being to pain : 

Thou makest me fear 
The mind that createth, 
That loves not nor hateth 
In justice austere ; 

Who, ere he make one, 
With millions toyeth, 
And lightly destroyeth 
Whate'er is begun. 

An' wer't not for thee, 
My glorious passion, 
My heart I could fashion 
To sternness, as he. 

But thee, Love, he made 
Lest man should defy him, 
Connive and outvie him, 
And not be afraid : 

Nay, thee, Love, he gave 
His terrors to cover, 
And turn to a lover 
His insolent slave.


Authorship

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

Date added to the website: 2009-02-04.

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