1.Symphony (overture): Introduction—Canzona—Adagio—Allegro—Grave—Allegro (repeat)
2.Recitative (bass) and chorus: Hail! Bright Cecilia
3.Duet (`treble` [though range would suggest alto] and... Читать дальше

1.Symphony (overture): Introduction—Canzona—Adagio—Allegro—Grave—Allegro (repeat)
2.Recitative (bass) and chorus: Hail! Bright Cecilia
3.Duet (`treble` [though range would suggest alto] and bass): Hark! hark! each tree
4.Air (countertenor): `Tis Nature’s voice`
5.Chorus: Soul of the world
6.Air (soprano) and chorus: Thou tun’st this world
7.Trio (alto, tenor and bass): With that sublime celestial lay
8.Air (bass): Wondrous machine!
9.Air (countertenor): The airy violin
10.Duet (countertenor and tenor): In vain the am’rous flute
11.Air (countertenor): The fife and all the harmony of war
12.Duet (two basses): Let these among themselves contest
13.Chorus: Hail! Bright Cecilia, hail to thee

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Elegy on the Death of Queen Mary, 1695

1. Symphony
2. Welcome to all the pleasure
3. Here the deities approve - While joys celestial
4. Then lift up your voices
5. Beauty, thou scene of love
6. In a Concort of voices

1. Adagio
2. Canzona
3. Adagio
4. Vivace
5. Largo

Birthday Ode For Queen Mary

I. Overture
II. Come, ye Sons of Art, come away
III. Sound the trumpet
IV. Come, ye Sons of Art, come away
V. Strike the viol
VI. The day that such a... Читать дальше

Birthday Ode For Queen Mary

I. Overture
II. Come, ye Sons of Art, come away
III. Sound the trumpet
IV. Come, ye Sons of Art, come away
V. Strike the viol
VI. The day that such a blessing
VII. Bid the Virtues
VIII. These, Are The Sacred Charms
IX. See Nature, rejoicing

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There are 2 arrangements of this piece, Z 17A and Z 17B respectively

Ode for St. Cecilia`s Day, 1685

There are 2 arrangements of this piece, Z 58A Z 58B, and a further Z 58C, which is a Full Anthem

1. Grave
2. Largo
3. Adagio
4. Canzona
5. Grave

The fatal hour comes on apace,
Which I had rather die than see,
For when fate calls you from this place,
You go to certain misery.
The thought does stab me to the heart,
And gives me pangs no... Читать дальше

The fatal hour comes on apace,
Which I had rather die than see,
For when fate calls you from this place,
You go to certain misery.
The thought does stab me to the heart,
And gives me pangs no word can speak,
It wracks me in each vital part,
Sure when you go, my heart will break.
Since I for you so much endure,
May I not hope you will believe,
’Tis you alone these wounds can cure,
Which are the fountains of my grief.

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`Если правда, что музыка хлеб для любви`

`Если правда, что музыка хлеб для любви`

`Если правда, что музыка хлеб для любви`

If music be the food of love,
Sing on till I am fill’d with joy;
For then my list’ning soul you move
To pleasures that can never cloy.
Your eyes,... Читать дальше

`Если правда, что музыка хлеб для любви`

If music be the food of love,
Sing on till I am fill’d with joy;
For then my list’ning soul you move
To pleasures that can never cloy.
Your eyes, your mien, your tongue declare
That you are music ev’rywhere.
Pleasures invade both eye and ear,
So fierce the transports are, they wound,
And all my senses feasted are,
Tho’ yet the treat is only sound,
Sure I must perish by your charms,
Unless you save me in your arms.

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Elegy on the Death of Thomas Farmer, 1688

c. 1680–82

Welcome Song for Charles II, 1680

`Evening Hymn on a Ground`

Now, now that the sun hath veil’d his light
And bid the world goodnight;
To the soft bed my body I dispose,
But where shall my soul repose?
Dear, dear God, even in... Читать дальше

`Evening Hymn on a Ground`

Now, now that the sun hath veil’d his light
And bid the world goodnight;
To the soft bed my body I dispose,
But where shall my soul repose?
Dear, dear God, even in Thy arms,
And can there be any so sweet security!
Then to thy rest, O my soul!
And singing, praise the mercy
That prolongs thy days.
Hallelujah!

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Tell me some pitying angel,
Tell quickly, quickly say,
Where does my soul’s sweet darling stay,
In tiger’s or more cruel Herod’s way?
Ah, rather let his little footsteps press
Unregarded... Читать дальше

Tell me some pitying angel,
Tell quickly, quickly say,
Where does my soul’s sweet darling stay,
In tiger’s or more cruel Herod’s way?
Ah, rather let his little footsteps press
Unregarded through the wilderness,
Where milder savages resort,
The desert’s safer than a tyrant’s court.
Why, fairest object of my love,
Why dost thou from my longing eyes remove?
Was it a waking dream that did fortell thy wondrous birth?
No vision from above?
Where’s Gabriel now that visited my cell?
I call: Gabriel! Gabriel!
He comes not.
Flatt’ring hopes, farewell.
Me Judah’s daughters once caress’d,
Call’d me of mothers the most bless’d.
Now fatal change, of mothers most distress’d.
How shall my soul its motions guide?
How shall I stem the various tide,
Whilst faith and doubt my lab’ring soul divide?
For whilst of thy dear sight beguil’d,
I trust the God, but oh! I fear the child.

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