Charles Villiers Stanford
2 voix · Voice, Piano
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The cloud wrack o’er the sullen sea is flying And the mist hoar, The night winds in their ocean caves are sighing For evermore, And the thousand voices of the deep are crying By the lone shore, But Angus never turns him home again to Morven. The browsing flocks upon the hillsides roaming Have sought the crest, The lowing kine have left the field as gloaming Fades in the West; And down the vale the windtossed bee is homing To its long rest, Yet Angus never turns him home again to Moven. For out beneath the warcloud’s redden’d awning Where fate is nigh, Where hearts are steel’d, and eager steeds are fawning And brave men die, He softly sleeps, nor wakes to see the dawning In the grey sky. And ocean voices wail his coronach in Morven.
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