Home that I love (Franz Wilhelm Abt): Difference between revisions
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*{{PostedDate|2020-01-17}} {{CPDLno|56663}} [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.pdf|{{pdf}}]] [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.mid|{{mid}}]] [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.mxl|{{XML}}]] [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.capx|{{Capx}}]] | *{{PostedDate| 2020-01-17}} {{CPDLno|56663}} [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.pdf|{{pdf}}]] [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.mid|{{mid}}]] [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.mxl|{{XML}}]] [[Media:Home_that_I_love_Abt.capx|{{Capx}}]] | ||
{{Editor|James Gibb|2020-01-17}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|8|131}}{{Copy|CPDL}} | {{Editor|James Gibb|2020-01-17}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|8|131}}{{Copy|CPDL}} | ||
:'''Edition notes:''' | :'''Edition notes:''' |
Revision as of 01:53, 1 January 2021
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- Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2020-01-17). Score information: A4, 8 pages, 131 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
General Information
German Title: O teure Heimat
English Title: Home that I love
Work: Sechs Gesänge für Sopran, Alt, Tenor u. Bass, Op. 498
Composer: Franz Wilhelm Abt
Lyricist: O. Welkercreate page
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: Keyboard
First published: 1877 Leipzig: Siegel
2nd published: 1879 in Novello's Part-Song Book (2nd series), Vol. 12, no. 340
Description:
External websites:
Original text and translations
Original text and translations may be found at O teure Heimat (Anonymous).
English text
1 Scent-laden breezes through the flowers are blowing;
Solemnly veiling earth descends the night;
Still is the lake, the distant Alpine summits
Shine, glory-clad, in golden evening light.
O land of beauty, home that I love,
Never from thee will my heart's devotion rove.
2 Come, let us forth, this evening-time to honour;
Come to the vale, and wander hand in hand.
Let us to song the parting hours be giving;
Sweetly will echo sound along the strand.
O land of beauty, home that I love,
Never from thee will my heart's devotion rove.
3 Clear is the moon, the steep of heaven upclimbing,
Shining to greet us ere she seeks the west;
Down from the height there floats the voice of Alphorns,
Which call us all to welcome evening rest.
O land of beauty, home that I love,
Never from thee will my heart's devotion rove.
Translation by John Troutbeck