| NEW | New to the catalogue: | Requiem, text by Ivor Gurney (Bass and piano) |
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| 006001 | A Hymn to God the Father | 6'30 | C |
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| Soprano and Alto + 6-part String Ensemble (2 Violins, 2 Violas, Cello and Bass) |
| 'Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun' |
| A setting for Soprano and Alto duet and String Ensemble of John Donne's famous poem.
words
A Hymn to God the Father
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which is my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive those sins, through which I run,
And do them still: though still I do deplore?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For, I have more.
Wilt thou forgive that sin by which I have won
Others to sin? and, made my sin their door?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year, or two: but wallowed in, a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
Swear by thyself, that at my death thy Sun
Shall shine as it shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, thou hast done,
I fear no more.
John Donne
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| 006001 | A Hymn to God the Father | 6'30 | B |
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| version for Soprano and Alto + organ |
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| 006002 | Microprocessor Man | 2'30 | B |
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| Soprano or Tenor and Ensemble (Clarinet, Cello, Keyboard, Piano and Percussion).
A cabaret song, performed by the Ensemble Aleph in Bath and Paris as part of an SPNM event.
words
Microprocessor Man
You stride through the world with mechanical grace
Ev'ry one can see the steel in your eyes not a hair out of place
but I have seen what no-one else can
when it comes to love
you're a computer-controlled automaton
Micro processor man
Ev'ry action calculated to an infinite degree
Precision made
Guaranteed one hundred percent error free
Fully integrated
not a single attitude out of line
Finger tip reaction
Sheer perfection of movement evry time.
Total control
As detached as a thing unseen
As distant and uncaring as a machine
Microprocessor man
You've a micro processor for your heart
Robert Hugill
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| 006002 | Microprocessor Man | 2'30 | B |
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| version for Soprano or Tenor and piano accompaniment. |
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| 006003 | To His Coy Mistress | 4'30 | A |
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| Alto and Piano |
| 'Had we but world enough and time' |
| Setting of the Andrew Marvell poem.
words
To His Coy Mistress
Had we but World enough, and Time,
This coyness Lady were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long Love's Day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Should'st Rubies find: I by the Tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood:
And you should if you please refuse
Till the Conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable Love should grow
Vaster than Empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine Eyes, and on thy Forehead Gaze.
Two hundred to adore each Breast:
But thirty thousand to the rest.
An Age at least to every part,
And the last Age should show your Heart.
For Lady you deserve this State;
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's winged Chariot hurrying near:
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast Eternity.
Thy Beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble Vault, shall sound
My echoing Song: then Worms shall try
That long preserv'd Virginity:
And your quaint Honour turn to dust;
And into Ashes all my Lust.
The Grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing Soul transpires
At ev'ry pore with instant Fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our Time devour,
Than languish in his slowchapt pow'r.
Let us roll all our Strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one Ball;
And tear our Pleasures with rough strife,
Thorough the Iron gates of Life.
Thus, though we cannot make our Sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
Andrew Marvell
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music |
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| 006003 | To His Coy Mistress | 4'30 | A |
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| Soprano and Piano |
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| 006003 | To His Coy Mistress | 4'30 | A |
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| Tenor and Piano |
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| 006003 | To His Coy Mistress | 4'30 | A |
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| Baritone and Piano |
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| 006004 | The Sleep | 4'30 | A |
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| Soprano and Piano |
| 'he giveth his beloved sleep.' - Psalm cxxvii.2 |
| A setting of the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
words
The Sleep
Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne in-ward in-to souls a-far,
Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if that any is,
For gift or grace, surpassing this:
'He giveth his belovèd - sleep?'
What would we give to our beloved?
The hero's heart to be unmoved,
The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep,
The patriot's voice to teach and rouse,
The monarch's crown to light the brows?
He giveth his belovèd sleep.
What do we give to our beloved?
A little faith all undisproved,
A little dust to over-weep,
And bitter memories to make
The whole earth blasted for our sake:
He giveth his belovèd - sleep.
'Sleep soft,' beloved! we sometimes say,
Who have no tune to charm away
Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep:
But never doleful dream again
shall break the happy slumber when
He giveth his belovèd - sleep
O earth, so full of dreary noises!
O men, with wailing in your voices!
O delved gold, the wailers heap!
O strife, O curse, that oe'r it fall!
God strikes a silence through you all,
And giveth his belovèd- sleep.
And friends, dear friends, when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And round my bier ye come to weep,
Let One, most loving of you all,
Say, 'Not a tear must o'er her fall!'
'He giveth his belovèd sleep, sleep.'
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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music |
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| 006005 | Kiss Thou this Rose | 3' |
| Soprano and Piano |
| 'Take thou this Rose, O Rose, Since love's own flower it is,' |
| Setting of a poem by Helen Waddell, written for the opera 'Garrett'.
words
Take thou this Rose O Rose.
Since love's own flower it is,
And by that Rose that Rose,
Thy lover captive is.
Smell thou this Rose O Rose.
And know thy self as sweet.
As dawn is sweet.
Look on this Rose, O Rose.
And looking laugh on me,
And in thy laughter's ring,
The nightingale shall sing.
O Rose, a painted Rose,
is not the whole the whole,
Who paints the flower,
Paints not its fragrant soul.
translated by Helen Waddell
(with permission from Miss Mollie Martin and Stanbrook Abbey)
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| 006006 | The Gilded Boys | 3' | A |
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| Mezzo-Soprano and Piano |
| 'The gilded boys are dancing with their lover's brother's lover' |
| Setting of a poem by Felice Picano
words
The gilded boys are dancing
with their lover's brother's lover
Those golden lads are having onefine time.
Swaying rather wildly to the ever present
hum from a hundred hidden speakers
within their platform heels.
As colored lights come screaming to glitter off their denims
to glance on plastic pins.
The gilded boys are gathered
in a chic Morocco Nightclub
from no-time in the thirties
from no-one's Garbo'd dream.
The meet there ev'ry Weekend
to catch each other's numbers
to check each other's haircuts
to fill their lives with peergroup vibes
and dance their dance of mechanized trance
for the instant emulation
of their brother's lover's brother
The gilded boys go on all night
sometimes till after sunrise
They're always checking mirrors
and bitching at the D. J.
their Cardin shirts get sweaty
and their pills get ineffective
and the man they think they love
is sometimes leaving with another
But they've always got each other
and their lover's lover's lover
to dance with ev'ry weekend
to prove that they're alive
The gilded boys
The gilded boys
Felice Picano
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| 006006 | The Gilded Boys | 3' | A |
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| Soprano and Piano |
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| 006010 | Annunciation | 6' | B |
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| Soprano, Alto and Organ |
| The angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; |
| A scena for Soprano and Alto setting the words from St. Luke's Gospel describing the annunciation. |
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| 006011 | To His Love | 2' | A |
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| Soprano and Piano |
| Setting of Ivor Gurney's poem which celebrates both Gurney's love of his native countryside around the River Severn and human friendships shattered by the First World War |
| The song came 2nd in the English Poetry and Song Society's 2007 Ivor Gurney competition.
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words
He's gone and all our plans
are useless indeed.
We'll walk no more on Cotswold
where the sheep feed
quietly and take no heed. |
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| 006012 | He looked at me | 2' | A |
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| Tenor and Piano |
| Setting of A.E. Housman's poem which evokes a love long lost in the first World War |
| The song came 3rd in the English Poetry and Song Society's 2008 A.E. Housman competition.
words music
He looked at me
He looked at me with eyes I thought
I was not like to find,
The voice he begged for pence with brought
Another man to mind.
Oh no, lad, never touch your cap;
It is not my half-crown:
You have it from a better chap
That long ago lay down.
Turn east and over Thames to Kent
And come to the sea's brim,
And find his everlasting tent
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| 006012 | He looked at me | 2' | A |
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| Baritone and Piano |
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| 006013 | Requiem NEW | 3' 40 | A |
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| Bass and Piano |
| Setting of Ivor Gurney's poem which evokes a loss in the first World War |
| The song came 4th in the English Poetry and Song Society's 2007 Ivor Gurneycompetition.
words
Requiem
Pour out your light, O stars, and do not hold
Your loveliest shining from earth's outworn shell
Pure and cold your radiance, pure and cold
My dead friend's face as well
Requiem
Pour out your bounty, moon of radiant shining
On all this shattered flesh, these quiet forms;
For these were slain, so quiet, still reclining,
In the noblest cause was ever waged with arms.
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