Thee, fair Poetry oft hath sought
Language:
English
Tenor solo
Thee, fair Poetry oft hath sought,
Wandering lone in wayward thought,
In level meads by gliding streams,
When summer noon is full of dreams.
And thy sweet airs her soul invade,
Haunting retired the willow shade.
Or in some orchard's wallèd nook
She communes with her ancient book,
Beneath the branches waving low,
While the high sun in cloudless glow
Smiteth all day the long hillside
With ripening corn-fields waving wide.
There if thou wander all the year,
No jar of man shall reach thine ear;
Only awhile the distant sound
From hidden villages around,
Threading the glades and woody heights, is borne
Of bells that dong the Sabbath morn.
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: 2009-07-30.
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