From Rosy Bowers - Purcell скачать в хорошем качестве

From Rosy Bowers - Purcell

From Rosy Bow’rs, Z. 578 - Henry Purcell (1659-1695) Performed Wednesday, March 22, 2017 BrownBag Concerts at Music and Art at Trinity Cathedral Malina Rauschenfels, soprano Paula Maust, harpsichord www.burning-river-baroque.org 1 (Love) From rosy bow’rs where sleeps the god of love, Hither, ye little waiting Cupids fly, Teach me in soft, melodious strains to move, With tender passion my hearts darling joy. Ah! let the soul of music tune my voice to win dear Strephon, who my soul enjoys. 2 (Gaily) Or if more influencing, Is to be brisk and airy, With a step and a bound, And a frisk from the ground, I will trip like any fairy. As when on Ida dancing, Were three celestial bodies, With an air, and a face, and a shape, and a grace, Let me charm like beauty’s goddess. 3 (Slow. Melancholy) Ah! ‘tis in vain, ‘tis all, ‘tis all in vain, Death and despair must end the fatal pain; Cold, cold despair disguis’d like snow and rain falls on my breast! Bleak winds in tempests blow, My veins all shiver and my fingers glow. My pulse beats a dead march for lost repose, And to a solid lump of ice my poor fond heart is froze. 4 (Passion) Or say, ye pow’rs my peace to crown, Shall I thaw myself, or drown Amongst the foaming billows, Increasing all with tears I shed, On beds of ooze, and crystal pillows, Lay down my lovesick head. 5 (Swift. Frenzy) No, no, I’ll straight run mad, That soon my heart will warm; When once the sense is fled, Love has no power to charm. Wild thro’ the woods I’ll fly, Robes, locks shall thus be tore; A thousand deaths I’ll die, E’re thus in vain adore.