Home of my heart (Charles Hubert Hastings Parry): Difference between revisions
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*{{PostedDate|2016-05-02}} {{CPDLno|39514}} [{{filepath:Home_of_my_heart_Parry.pdf}} {{pdf}}] [{{filepath:Home_of_my_heart_Parry.mid}} {{mid}}] [{{filepath:Home_of_my_heart_Parry.capx}} | *{{PostedDate|2016-05-02}} {{CPDLno|39514}} [{{filepath:Home_of_my_heart_Parry.pdf}} {{pdf}}] [{{filepath:Home_of_my_heart_Parry.mid}} {{mid}}] [{{filepath:Home_of_my_heart_Parry.capx}} {{Capx}}] | ||
{{Editor|James Gibb|2016-05-02}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|6|88}}{{Copy|CPDL}} | {{Editor|James Gibb|2016-05-02}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|6|88}}{{Copy|CPDL}} | ||
:'''Edition notes:''' | :'''Edition notes:''' | ||
Revision as of 13:36, 27 May 2016
Music files
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- (Posted 2016-05-02) CPDL #39514:
- Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2016-05-02). Score information: A4, 6 pages, 88 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: Home of my heart
Composer: Charles Hubert Hastings Parry
Lyricist: A. C. Benson
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: Keyboard
Published: 1898
Description: Eight Four-part Songs (1898) No.4
- Phillis
- O Love, they wrong thee much
- At her fair hands
- Home of my heart
- You gentle nymphs
- Come pretty wag
- Ye thrilled me once
- Better music ne'er was known
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Home of my heart, when wilt thou ope
Thy silent doors to let me in?
What! not one glimpse to quicken hope
Of all that I aspire to win?
So near, and yet so oft denied!
The roses on my trellis throw
Their heedless scent from side to side,
Yet will not whisper what they know.
The yellow moon that hangs and peers
Amid the icy horns on high,
Leans to the list'ning earth, yet fears
To tell the secret of the sky.
O pines that whisper in the wind,
When ling'ring herds from pasture come,
Breathe somewhat of your steadfast mind,
The hour is yours: yet ye are dumb.
Sweet answering eyes, you too have learned
The secret that you will not tell,
I should have known it, but you turned
That moment, and the lashes fell.
Home of my heart, why stand so cold
And silent? there is mirth within:
The sun sinks low, the day is old,
Oh, let the baffled wand'rer in!