large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_06_stein_64kb_0
large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_06_stein_64kb
English
11091
Ah, well a day! I listen breathless till I half believe that sorrowing singer still Dreams on divinely by the whispering tree; For in your voice all tenderest heart strings thrill, And all the woodland's marvelous minstrelsy! AH WELL A DAY I LISTEN BREATHLESS TILL I HALF BELIEVE THAT SORROWING SINGER STILL DREAMS ON DIVINELY BY THE WHISPERING TREE FOR IN YOUR VOICE ALL TENDEREST HEARTSTRINGS THRILL AND ALL THE WOODLAND'S MARVELLOUS MINSTRELSY
of dreamy tenderness That laps, and wraps, and overlays The far blue hills, And spills and fills The valleys with pale purple haze? O, what sweet syllables confess The glad heart-happiness that plays Through all my pulses as I gaze, And drink the beauty, past all praise— The old, immortal blessedness Of April days! _ON HEARING THE BALLAD “ALLEN PERCY”_ A plaintive song, so strangely sweet and old, That all my soul within itself would fold And gently keep so quaint a melody, That like a bird’s its notes of liquid gold Might oft repeat their sweetness unto me. A tale of joyless splendor long ago, Of wedded lady and of loveless woe, How she to soothe her sick heart’s misery Cradled in vines her little child, and so Sang of dear love beneath a greenwood tree. And through it all there runs such saddest plaint, As sweet as lutes, now murmurous, now faint, Till, like the far-heard sighing of the sea, It sweeps in gathering passion past restraint, Then breaks, and croons in mournful minor key.  ON HEARING THE BALLAD ALLAN PERCY BY EVELING STEYNE READ FOR LIBER VOXTA ORG BY SYLVESTER LAND A PLAINTIVE SONG SO STRANGELY SWEET AND OLD THAT ALL MY SOUL WITHIN ITSELF WOULD FOLD AND GENTLY KEEP SO QUAINT A MELODY THAT LIKE A BIRD'S ITS NOTES OF LIQUID GOLD MIGHT OFT REPEAT THEIR SWEETNESS UNTO ME A TALE OF JOYLESS SPLENDOUR LONG AGO OF WEDDED LADY AND OF LOVELESS WOE HOW SHE TO SOOTHE HER SICK HEART'S MISERY CRADLED IMBINES HER LITTLE CHILD AND SO SANG OF DEAR LOVE BENEATH A GREENWOOD TREE AND THROUGH IT ALL THERE RUNS SUCH SADDEST PLAINT AS SWEET AS LUTES NOW MURMUROUS NOW FAINT TILL LIKE THE FAR HURT SIGHING OF THE SEA AND SWEEPS IN GATHERING PASSION PAST RESTRAINT THEN BREAKS AND CROONS IN MOURNFUL MINOR KEY
large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_06_stein_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_06_stein_64kb.flac