The Masked Shepherd

Paroles

Soprano

Behold the sun in gold descending, Blushes o’er the landscape red, And all the hues of ev’ning blending, Sinks into his western bed. The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper soft "Good night." The shadows lengthen long and slow, A ruddy sheen glows in the brook; The wearry oxen plaintive low, And longs to quit the pressing yoke, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper soft "Good night." The birds have done their ev’ning song, One by one their voices cease; All nature to its rest has gone, And all is silence, all is peace, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper soft "Good night."

Alto

Behold the sun in gold descending, Blushes o’er the landscape red, And all the hues of ev’ning blending, Sinks into his western bed. The dying day, the waning light, Bid us Bid us whisper soft "Good night." The shadows lengthen long and slow, A ruddy sheen glows in the brook; The weary oxen plaintive low, And long to quit the pressing yoke, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper, whisper soft "Good night." The birds have done their ev’ning song, One by one their voices cease; All nature to its rest has gone, And all is silence, All is peace, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us Bid us whisper soft "Good night."

Tenor

Behold the sun in gold descending, Blushes o’er the landscape red, And all the hues of ev’ning blending, Sinks into his western bed, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper soft "Good night." The shadows lengthen long and slow, A ruddy sheen glows in the brook; The weary oxen plaintive low, And long to quit the pressing yoke, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper soft "Good night." The birds have done their ev’ning song, One by one their voices cease; All nature to its rest has gone, And all is silence, all is peace, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper soft "Good night."

Bass

Behold the sun in gold descending, Blushes o’er the landscape red, And all the hues of ev’ning blending, Sinks into his western bed. The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper, whisper soft "Good night." The shadows lengthen long and slow, A ruddy sheen glows in the brook; Thewea ry oxen plaintive low, And long to quit the pressing yoke, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper, whisper soft "Goodnight." The birds have done their ev’ning song. One by one theirvoices cease; All nature to its rest has gone, And all is silence, all is peace, The dying day, the waning light, Bid us whisper, whisper soft "Goodnight"