Cupid and Rosalind (Charles Villiers Stanford): Difference between revisions
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==Music files== | ==Music files== | ||
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*{{PostedDate|2021-10-07}} {{CPDLno|66113}} [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind_Stanford.pdf|{{pdf}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind_Stanford.mid|{{mid}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind_Stanford.mxl|{{mp3}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind_Stanford.capx|{{Capx}}]] | |||
{{Editor|James Gibb|2021-10-07}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|7|235}}{{Copy|CPDL}} | |||
:{{EdNotes|}} | |||
*{{PostedDate|2013-01-12}} {{CPDLno|28021}} [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.pdf|{{pdf}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.mid|{{mid}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.mxl|{{XML}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.sib|{{sib}}]] (Sibelius 7) | *{{PostedDate|2013-01-12}} {{CPDLno|28021}} [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.pdf|{{pdf}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.mid|{{mid}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.mxl|{{XML}}]] [[Media:Cupid_and_Rosalind.sib|{{sib}}]] (Sibelius 7) | ||
{{Editor|Ian Haslam|2013-01-12}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|6|127}}{{Copy|CPDL}} | {{Editor|Ian Haslam|2013-01-12}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|6|127}}{{Copy|CPDL}} |
Revision as of 08:53, 7 October 2021
Music files
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- Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2021-10-07). Score information: A4, 7 pages, 235 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
- Editor: Ian Haslam (submitted 2013-01-12). Score information: A4, 6 pages, 127 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: Cupid and Rosalind
Composer: Charles Villiers Stanford
Lyricist: Thomas Lodge
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: A cappella
First published: 1894
Description: Originally published by Novello and Co. The partsong is No. 4 of Six Elizabethan Pastorals Op. 53.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Love in my bosom like a bee
Doth suck his sweet:
Now with his wings he plays with me,
Now with his feet.
Within mine eyes he makes his nest,
His bed amidst my tender breast;
My kisses are his daily feast,
And yet he robs me of my rest:
Ah! wanton, will ye?
And if I sleep, then percheth he
With pretty flight,
And makes his pillow of my knee
The livelong night.
Strike I my lute, he tunes the string;
He music plays if so I sing;
He lends me every lovely thing,
Yet cruel he my heart doth sting:
Whist, wanton, still ye!
Else I with roses every day
Will whip you hence,
And bind you, when you long to play
For your offence.
I'll shut mine eyes to keep you in;
I'll make you fast it for your sin;
I'll count your power not worth a pin.
Alas! what hereby shall I win
If he gainsay me?
What if I beat the wanton boy
With many a rod?
He will repay me with annoy,
Because a god.
Then sit thou safely on my knee;
Then let thy bower my bosom be;
Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee;
O Cupid, so thou pity me,
Spare not, but play thee!