Jane, Jane Tall as a crane, The morning light creaks down again; Comb your cockscomb-ragged hair, Jane, Jane, Come down the stair. Each dull blunt wooden stalactite Of rain creaks, hardened by the light, Sounding like an overtone From some lonely world unknown. But the creaking empty light Will never harden into sight, Will never penetrate your brain With overtoncs like the blunt rain, The light would show (if it could harden) Eternities of kitchen garden, Cockscomb flowers that none will pluck, And wooden flowers that 'gin to cluck. In the kitchen you must light Flames as staring, red and white, As carrots or as turnips, shining Where the old dawn light lies whining Cockscomb hair on the cold wind Hangs limp, turns the milk's weak mind... Jane, Jane, Tall as a crane, The morning light creaks down again!
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First published in Saturday Westminster Gazette, October 1920Authorship:
- by Edith Sitwell (1887 - 1964), "Aubade", appears in Façade [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), "Aubade", 2009 [ mezzo-soprano and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
- by William Walton (1902 - 1983), "Aubade - Jane, Jane", first performed 1922 [ reciter and chamber ensemble ], from Façade [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Dan Eggleston
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 31
Word count: 139