A Cycle of Songs, Op.68

Paroles

Soprano

Home they brought her warrior dead. She nor swoon’d, nor utter’d cry: All her maidens, watching, said, 'She must weep or she will die.' Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Stole a maidden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the facecloth from the face; Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child up onher knee, Like summer tempest came her tears “Sweet my child, I live for thee.”

Alto

Home they brought her warrior dead. She nor swoon’d, nor utter’d cry: All her maidens, watching, said, 'She must weep or she will die.' Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Stole a maidden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the facecloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child up onher knee, Like summer tempest came her tears “Sweet my child, I live for thee.”

Tenor

Home they brought her warrior dead. She nor swoon’d, nor utter’d cry: Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maidden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the facecloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child up onher knee, Like summer tempest came her tears “Sweet my child, I live for thee.”

Bass

Home they brought her warrior dead. She nor swoon’d, nor utter’d cry: Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maidden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the facecloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child up onher knee, Like summer tempest came her tears “Sweet my child, I live for thee.”