Halloween
Language: English
Poor flutt'ring heart, ah! wilt thou ne'er Thy master's burden learn to bear! Ah, cruel Mem'ry, why retrace The angel features of that face! Those eyes that could a wound impart More fatal than a foeman's dart, Which ends at once the painful strife That he who loves endures through life. My Mary was the sweetest rose, That in Love's beauteous garden grows; Her form, her mien, her soul so pure Enchanted me beyond all cure: So graceful, artless, modest, mild, She ev'ry eye and heart beguil'd; Yet blush'd to meet th' admiring gaze Of all who sought to speak her praise. Through sleepless nights in vain I strove To quench the flame of ardent love: In vain I tried to shun her sight, -- To seek my lost repose in flight! My falt'ring tongue full soon reveal'd The truth my eyes had ill conceal'd; And in the bower, at eve's decline, I trembling ask'd her to be mine.
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by (Franz) Joseph Haydn (1732 - 1809), "Halloween", JHW. XXXII/4 no. 281, Hob. XXXIa no. 63bis [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani
This text was added to the website: 2011-03-06
Line count: 24
Word count: 158