The Rose of Tralee (Charles William Glover): Difference between revisions

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*{{CPDLno|4529}} {{LinkW|glov-ros.pdf|glov-ros.mid}}
*{{CPDLno|4529}} [[Media:ws-glov-ros.pdf|{{Pdf}}]] [[Media:ws-glov-ros.mid|{{Mid}}]]
{{Editor|Douglas Brooks-Davies|2003-01-21}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|4|200}}{{Copy|Personal}}
{{Editor|Douglas Brooks-Davies|2003-01-21}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|4|200}}{{Copy|Personal}}
:'''Edition notes:'''
:'''Edition notes:'''

Revision as of 21:08, 12 February 2017

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  • CPDL #04529:     
Editor: Douglas Brooks-Davies (submitted 2003-01-21).   Score information: Letter, 4 pages, 200 kB   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Rose of Tralee, The
Composer: Charles William Glover

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB

Genre: SecularPartsong

Language: English
Instruments: Piano

{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

The pale moon was rising above the green mountains,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;
When I strayed with my love by the pure crystal fountain,
That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.

The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading,
And Mary all smiling was listening to me;
The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding,
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.
Though lovely and fair as the Rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.

In the far fields of India, 'mid wars dreadful thunders,
Her voice was a solace and comfort to me,
But the chill hand of death has now rent us asunder,
I'm lonely tonight for the Rose of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.