The Penguin Book of English Song
Page 24
Until the late nineteenth century Blake had hardly interested composers; it is, however, reported by Alexander Gilchrist, his first biographer, that Blake was in the habit of singing his poems to his own melodies, and that on his deathbed ‘he lay chaunting Songs to Melodies – both the inspiration of the moment’. According to Donald Fitch in Blake Set to Music (University of California Press, 1989), the first art song setting of a Blake poem was Doyne Courtenay Bell’s ‘Can I see another’s woe’ in 1876. Although there were other composers in the late nineteenth century who were drawn to Blake’s poetry, among them Somervell, Stanford, Parry and Boughton, it was not until the twentieth century that the floodgates opened, especially in the second and third decades. He has attracted composers from a remarkable array of countries including Australia, Belgium, France, Denmark, Finland, Germany, Holland, Hungary, Italy, Norway, Poland, Russia, Sweden, Switzerland and the USA. Several composers, most notably William Bolcom, have set the entire forty-six poems of Songs of Innocence and of Experience; and Allen Ginsberg recorded his own arrangements of twenty-two poems. Among English composers, John Sykes (1909–62) leads with 36 songs, followed by Fritz Hart (26), Havergal Brian (19), Alfred Hale (17) and Maude Valérie White (15). Much the most popular song with composers has been ‘The Lamb’ (well over 250 settings), followed some way behind by the two Cradle Songs – ‘Sweet dreams, form a shade’ and ‘Sleep, sleep, beauty bright’. Other favourites include ‘The Tyger’, ‘The Shepherd’ and ‘Spring’.
HUBERT PARRY
Jerusalem1 (1916)
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?2
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?3
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!4
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.
(Davies, Thomson)
HAVERGAL BRIAN: from Three Songs for Medium Voice and Pianoforte (1919/1920)
The defiled sanctuary1
I saw a chapel all of gold
That none did dare to enter in;
And many weeping stood without,
Weeping, mourning, worshipping.
I saw a serpent rise between
The white pillars of the door;2
And he forced and forced and forced
Down the golden hinges tore;
And along the pavement sweet,
Set with pearls and rubies bright,
All his slimy length he drew,
Till upon the altar white
Vomiting his poison out,
On the bread and on the wine.
So I turned into a sty
And laid me down among the swine.
(Goehr)
BENJAMIN BRITTEN: from Serenade, Op. 31, for tenor, horn and strings (1943/1944)
The Sick Rose
[The sick rose. Elegy]
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
(Blyton, Bolcom, Bush, Hart, Homer, Mellers, Segerstam)
BENJAMIN BRITTEN: from A Charm of Lullabies, Op. 41 (1947/1949)1
A Cradle Song2
Sleep! sleep! beauty bright,
Dreaming o’er the joys of night;
Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep
Little sorrow sit and weep.
Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.
[As thy softest limbs I feel,
Smiles as of the morning steal
O’er thy cheek, and o’er thy breast
Where thy little heart does rest.]3
O! the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep.
When thy little heart does wake
Then the dreadful lightnings break,
From thy cheek and from thy eye,
O’er the youthful harvests nigh.
Infant wiles and infant smiles
Heaven and Earth of peace beguiles.
(Bantock, Clarke, Dunhill, Gibbs, Hageman, Hart, Ireland, Milford, Stanford, Sykes, White)
RALPH VAUGHAN WILLIAMS: Ten Blake Songs, for voice and oboe (1957/1958)
These ten songs were written during Christmas 1957 as part of a short film, The Vision of William Blake, produced by Guy Brenton to celebrate the bicentenary of Blake’s birth.
Infant Joy (Songs of Innocence)
I have no name
I am but two days old. –
What shall I call thee?
I happy am
Joy1 is my name. –
Sweet joy befall thee!
Pretty joy!
Sweet joy but two days old.
Sweet joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile.2
I sing the while
Sweet joy befall thee.
(Bolcom, Brian, Clarke, Darke, Davies, Dunhill, Hart, Siegmeister, Sykes)
A Poison Tree (Songs of Experience)1
I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not. my wrath did grow.
And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole.
When the night had veild the pole2;
In the morning glad I see,
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.
(Alwyn, Bolcom, Britten, Sykes)
Introduction (Songs of Innocence)
[The piper]
Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee
On a cloud I saw a child.
And he laughing said to me.
Pipe a song about a Lamb1:
So I piped with merry chear,
Piper pipe that song again –
So I piped, he wept to hear.
Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe
Sing thy songs of happy chear,
So I sang the same again
While he wept with joy to hear
Piper sit thee down and write
In a book that all may read –
So he vanish’d from my sight
And I pluck’d a hollow reed.
And I made a rural pen,
And I stain’d the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs,
Every child may joy to hear.
(Bolcom, Brian, Hart, Milford, Siegmeister, Somervell, Sykes)
London (Songs of Experience)
I wander thro’ each charter’d1 street.
Near where the charter’d Thames does flow
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man.
In every Infants cry of fear.
In every voice; in every ban2.
The mind-forg’d manacles3 I hear
How the Chimney-sweepers cry
Every blackning Church appalls4.
And the hapless5 Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls
>
But most thro’ midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts6 the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
(Bolcom, Britten, Corp, Sykes)
The Lamb (Songs of Innocence)
Little Lamb who made thee
Dost thou know who made thee
Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight.
Softest clothing woolly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice.
Making all the vales rejoice:
Little Lamb who made thee
Dost thou know who made thee
Little Lamb I’ll tell thee,
Little Lamb I’ll tell thee;
He is called by thy name1,
For he calls himself a Lamb:
He is meek & he is mild,
He became a little child:
I a child & thou a lamb,
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb God bless thee,
Little Lamb God bless thee.
(Bolcom, Boughton, Brian, Chanler, Darke, Davies, Dunhill, Hart, Siegmeister, Somervell, Sykes, Tavener, White)
The Shepherd (Songs of Innocence)
How sweet is the Shepherds sweet lot,
From the morn to the evening he strays:
He shall follow his sheep all the day
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
For he hears the lambs innocent call.
And he hears the ewes tender reply,
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.
(Bolcom, Brian, Darke, Davies, Dunhill, Hart, Somervell, Sykes)
Ah! Sun-flower (Songs of Experience)1
Ah, sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow2:
Arise from their graves and aspire.
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
(Alwyn, Bolcom, Britten, Hart, Mellers, Thomson, Sykes)
A Divine Image
[Cruelty has a human heart]1
Cruelty has a Human Heart,
And Jealousy a Human Face
Terror, the Human Form Divine
And Secrecy, the Human Dress
The Human Dress is forged Iron
The Human Form, a fiery Forge.
The Human Face, a furnace seal’d
The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.
(Bolcom, Harbison)
The Divine Image (Songs of Innocence)
To Mercy Pity Peace and Love.
All pray in their distress:
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
For Mercy Pity Peace and Love,
Is God our Father dear:
And Mercy Pity Peace and Love,
Is Man his child and care.
For Mercy has a human heart
Pity, a human face:
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress1.
Then every man of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love Mercy Pity Peace,
And all must love the human form.
In heathen, turk, or jew.
Where Mercy, Love & Pity dwell,
There God is dwelling too.
(Bolcom, Joubert)
Eternity1
He who binds to himself a Joy
Doth the wingèd life destroy;
But he who kisses the Joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity’s sunrise.
The look of love alarms,
Because ’tis filled with fire;
But the look of soft deceit
Shall win the lover’s hire.
Soft deceit and idleness –
These are beauty’s sweetest dress.
(Stockhausen)
WILLIAM WALTON: from A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table (1962/1962)1
Holy Thursday2 (Songs of Innocence)
Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean
The children walking two & two in red and blue and green
Grey headed beadles walkd before with wands3 as white as snow
Till into the high dome of Pauls they like Thames waters flow
O what a multitude they seemd these flowers4 of London town
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own
The hum of multitudes was there but multitudes of lambs
Thousands of little boys & girls raising their innocent hands
Now like a mighty wind5 they raise to heaven the voice of song
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among
Beneath6 them sit the aged men wise guardians of the poor
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door
(Bolcom, Boughton, Sykes, White, Wood)
BENJAMIN BRITTEN: Songs and Proverbs of William Blake (1965/1965)
The work was first performed on 24 June 1965 at the Aldeburgh Festival by Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and the composer; the texts were selected by Peter Pears from Blake’s Songs of Experience, ‘Auguries of innocence’ and ‘Proverbs of Hell’.
Proverbs 22–5
The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.
The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.
The nakedness of woman is the work of God.
London
See above, under Vaughan Williams.
Proverb 21
Prisons are built with stones of Law, brothels
with bricks of Religion.
The Chimney Sweeper (Songs of Experience)
A little black thing among the snow:
Crying weep, weep1 in notes of woe!
Where are thy father & mother? say?
They are both gone up to the church to pray.
Because2 I was happy upon the heath.
And smil’d among the winters snow:
They clothed me in the clothes of death.
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.
And because I am happy & dance & sing.
They think they have done me no injury:
And are gone to praise God3 & his Priest & King
Who make up a heaven of our misery.4
(Bolcom, Brian, Mathias, Siegmeister)
Proverb 31
The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
A Poison Tree
See above, under Vaughan Williams.
Proverb 41
Think in the morning. Act in the noon.
Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.
The Tyger1 (Songs of Experience)
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame2 thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright
>
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
(Bantock, Bolcom, Boughton, Bush, Clarke, Gibbs, Siegmeister, Sykes, Thomson)
Proverbs 44, 18, 52
The tygers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.
If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.
If others had not been foolish, we should be so.
The Fly (Songs of Experience)
Little Fly1
Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush’d away.
Am not I