Howells Texts
Texts Set by Herbert Howells
According to Finzi’s 1954 article, Howells abandoned the use of opus numbers after op 41 (which was circa 1920).
Yr wrtn / Yr Pub’d / Genre / Title of Multi-text Works / Title of Single-text Works / Poet(s) / Date/Title of Source / Texts1909 (u) / Solo song / My Shadow / Stevenson / Child’s Garden of Verses / I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, / And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. / He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; / And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed. //
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-- / Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; / For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, / And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all. //
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, / And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. / He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see; / I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me! / One morning, very early, before the sun was up, / I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; / But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, / Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
1911 (u) / Solo song / Longing / MacLeod / O would I were the cool wind that's blowing from the sea,
Each loneliest valley I would search till I should come to thee.
In the dew on the grass is your name, dear, i' the leaf on the tree // O would I were the cool wind that's blowing from the sea.
O would I were the cool wind that's blowing far from me --
The grey silence, the grey waves, the grey wastes of the sea.
1911 (u) / Solo song / A Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 2 / 01The Twilight People / O’Sullivan, Seumas (1879-1958) / 1905, The Twilight People / It is a whisper among the hazel bushes ;
It is a long, low, whispering voice that fills
With a sad music the bending and swaying rushes ;
It is a heart-beat deep in the quiet hills.
Twilight people, why will you still be crying,
Crying and calling to me out of the trees?
For under the quiet grass the wise are lying,
And all the strong ones are gone over the seas.
And I am old, and in my heart at your calling
Only the old dead dreams a-fluttering go ;
As the wind, the forest wind, in its falling
Sets the withered leaves fluttering to and fro.
1911 (u) / Solo song / A Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 2 / 02 The Devotee / Koehler, Thomas
1911 (u) / Solo song / A Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 2 / 03 The Waves of Breffny / Gore-Booth, Eva / The grand road from the mountain goes shining to the sea,
And there is traffic in it and many a horse and cart,
But the little roads of Cloonagh are dearer far to me,
And the little roads of Cloonagh go rambling through my heart.
A great storm from the ocean goes shouting o’er the hill,
And there is glory in it and terror on the wind,
But the haunted air of twilight is very strange and still,
And the little winds of twilight are dearer to my mind.
The great waves of the Atlantic sweep storming on their way,
Shining green and silver with the hidden herring shoal,
But the Little Waves of Breffny have drenched my heart in spray,
And the Little Waves of Breffny go stumbling through my
The grand road from the mountain goes shining to the sea,
And there is traffic on it and many a horse and cart,
But the little roads of Cloonagh are dearer far to me
And the little roads of Cloonagh go rambling through my heart. //
A great storm from the ocean goes shouting o'er the hill,
And there is glory in it; and terror on the wind:
But the haunted air of twilight is very strange and still,
And the little winds of twilight are dearer to my mind. //
The great waves of the Atlantic sweep storming on their way,
Shining green and silver with the hidden herring shoal;
But the little waves of Breffny have drenched my heart in spray,
And the little waves of Breffny go stumbling through my soul.
1911 (u) / Solo song / A Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 2 / 04 The Sorrow of Love (orig: “The Love-Gift of Sorrow”) / O’Sullivan, Seumas (1879-1958) / 1912, Poems / For all my sorrow I have been more glad / Than those that know but joy, for I have had / This thought that is of all my thought /
more near / Than my own heart, this thought for solace. // Dear,
In the long years to come when you have / grown / More gentle, almost lovelier, having known
The things that wait about a woman's / heart; / One day when you have turned from all /
apart / And come to your own self again, a thought / Will come to you, immortal, being wrought
Out of all love and sorrow in my own heart, / And you will bend your head lower and / sigh
Because of that great love that you passed by.
1911 (u) / Solo song / A Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 2 / 05 The Call / Roberts, George
1912 / 1990 / Sacred choral / Missa Sine Nomine (in the Dorian Mode)
1913 / 1913 / Sacred choral / Even Such is Time / Raleigh, Sir Walter / Even such is time, that takes in trust / Our youth, our joys, our all we have, / And pays us but with earth and dust; / Who, in the dark and silent grave, / When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days: / But from this earth, this grave, this dust, / My God shall raise me up, I trust.
1913 / 1999 / Solo song / Five Songs, op. 7 / ‘St. Bride’s Song’ / Macleod, Fiona (William Sharp) / From the Hills of Dream: Threnodies, Songs and Other Poems, 1901 / Oh, Baby Christ, so dear to me, / Sang Bridget Bride: / How sweet thou art, / My baby dear,/ Heart of my heart !
Heavy her body was with thee, / Mary, beloved of One in Three, / Sang Bridget Bride--/Mary, who bore thee, little lad: / But light her heart was, light and glad / With God's love clad.
Sit on my knee, / Sang Bridget Bride: / Sit here / O Baby dear, / Close to my heart, my heart: / For I thy foster-mother am, / My helpless lamb! / O have no fear, / Sang good St. Bride.
None, none, / No fear have I: / So let me cling / Close to thy side / While thou dost sing, / O Bridget Bride!
My Lord, my Prince, I sing: / My Baby dear, my King! / Sang Bridget Bride.
1913 / 1999 / Solo song / Five Songs, op. 7 / By the Grey Stone / Macleod, Fiona (William Sharp) / Through the Ivory Gate (1901) / It is quiet here : the wet hill-wind's sigh
Sobs faintly, as though behind a curtain of thick grass.
The vanishing curlew wails a fading cry.
I can hear the least soft footfall pass.
Is a shrewmouse I hear, or does the
night-moth whirr?
I have waited so long, so long, so long,
alas !
No one. No one. I hear no faintest stir.
Yet Love spake once, with lips of flame andeyes of fire,
With burning frankincense and
myrrh —
Spake, and the vow was even as Desire
Terrible, winged, magnific, crested with
flame,
So that I bowed before it, mounting
gyre upon gyre. . . .
I see now a grey bird by the grey stone
of no name :
It is blind and deaf, and its wings are tipped with mire.
Is it love's lordly vow or mine own bitter shame?
1913 / 1999 / Solo song / Five Songs, op. 7 / The Valley of Silence / Macleod, Fiona (William Sharp) / From the Hills of Dream: Threnodies, Songs and Other Poems, 1901 / In the secret Valley of Silence
No breath doth fall;
No wind stirs in the branches;
No bird doth call:
As on a white wall
A breathless lizard is still,
So silence lies on the valley
Breathlessly still.
In the dusk-grown heart of the valley
An altar rises white:
No rapt priest bends in awe
Before its silent light:
But sometimes a flight
Of breathless words of prayer
White-wing'd enclose the altar,
Eddies of prayer.
1913 / 1999 / Five Songs, op. 7 / When the Dew is Falling / Macleod, Fiona (William Sharp) / From the Hills of Dream: Threnodies, Songs and Other Poems, 1901 / When the dew is falling
I have heard a calling
Of aerial sweet voices o'er the low green hill;
And when the moon is dying
I have heard a crying
Where the brown burn slippeth thro' the hollows green
and still.
And O the sorrow upon me,
The grey grief upon me,
For a voice that whispered once, and now for aye is
still:
O heart forsaken, calling
When the dew is falling,
To the one that comes not ever o'er the low green hill.
1913 / 1999 / Solo song / Five Songs, op. 7 / When there is Peace / Macleod, Fiona (William Sharp) / The Hour of Beauty (1907) / There is peace on the sea to-night
Thought the fish in the white wave : // There is peace among the stars to-night / Thought the sleeper in the grave : // There is peace in my heart to-night /
Sighed Love beneath his breath ; // For God dreamed in the silence of His might / Amid the earthquakes of death.
1913 (m) / Sacred choral / Te lucis ante terminum / Te lucis ante terminum, / rerum Creator, poscimus / ut pro tua clementia / sis praesul et custodia // Procul recedant somnia / et noctium phantasmata; / hostemque nostrum comprime, / ne polluantur corpora // Praesta, Pater piissime, / Patrique compar Unice, / cum Spiritu Paraclito
regnans per omne saeculum.
To Thee, before the close of day / Creator of the world, we pray / that with Thy wonted favor, Thou / wouldst be our Guard and Keeper now. // From all ill dreams defend our eyes, / from nightly fears and fantasies: / tread under foot our ghostly foe, / that no pollution we may know // O Father, that we ask be done / through Jesus Christ Thine only Son, / who, with the Holy Ghost and Thee, / shall live and reign eternally
1913 (u) / Solo song / The Evening Darkens Over / Bridges, Robert / The evening darkens over
After a day so bright,
The windcapt waves discover
That wild will be the night.
There's sound of distant thunder. // The latest sea-birds hover
Along the cliff's sheer height;
As in the memory wander
Last flutterings of delight,
White wings lost on the white. // There's not a ship in sight;
And as the sun goes under,
Thick clouds conspire to cover
The moon that should rise yonder.
Thou art alone, fond lover
1914 / 1989 / Sacred choral / Nunc Dimittis (Latin)
1914
(u) / Chorus & orch. / The Lord Shall Be My Help
1914 / 1914 / Sec. choral / Weep You No More Sad Fountains / Anonymous / Weep you no more, sad fountains;
What need you flow so fast? / Look how the snowy mountains
Heav'n's sun doth gently waste.
But my sun's heav'nly eyes / View not your weeping / That now lies sleeping, / Softly, softly, now softly lies sleeping. // Sleep is a reconciling, / A rest that Peace begets. / Doth not the sun rise smiling / When fair at e'en he sets
Rest you then, rest, sad eyes, /
Melt not in weeping / While she lies sleeping, / Softly, softly, now softly lies sleeping.
1915 / 1916 (ns) / Sec. choral / In Youth is Pleasure / Wever, Robert / In a harbour grene aslepe whereas I lay, / The byrdes sang swete in the middes of the day, / I dreamed fast of mirth and play: / In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Methought I walked still to and fro, / And from her company I could not go / But when I waked it was not so: / In youth ispleasure, in youth is pleasure. / Therefore my hart is surely pyght
Of her alone to have a sight / Which is my joy and hartes delight: / In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
1915 / 1919 / Sec. choral / Five Partsongs, op. 11 / 1 The Shepherd / Blake, William / How sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot! / From the morn to the evening he strays; / He shall follow his sheep all the day,
And his tongue shall be filled with praise. / For he hears the lambs' innocent call,
And he hears the ewes' tender reply; / He is watchful while they are in peace, / For they know when their shepherd is nigh.
1915 / 1919 / Sec. choral / Five Partsongs, op. 11 / 2 The Pilgrim / Blake, William / Phoebe drest like beauty's queen,
Jellicoe in faint pea-green,
Sitting all beneath a grot,
Where the little lambkins trot. // Maidens dancing, loves a-sporting, / All the country folks a-courting, / Susan, Johnny, Bob, and Joe, / Lightly tripping on a row. // Happy people, who can be
In happiness compar'd with ye?
The pilgrim with his crook and hat / Sees your happiness complete.
1915 / 1919 / Sec. choral / Five Partsongs, op. 11 / 3 A Croon / Anonymous / Hush-a-ba, birdie, croon, croon;
Hush-a-ba, birdie, croon, / The sheep are gane to the silver wood,
And the cows are gane to the broom, broom. / And it’s braw milking the kye, kye, / An’ it’s braw, braw milkin’ the kye. / The birds are singing, the bells are / ringing, And the wild deer come galloping by. / And hush-a-ba, birdie, croon, croon; / Hush-a-ba, birdie, croon, / The gaits are gane to the mountains hie, / And they’ll no’ be hame till noon, noon.
1915 / 1919 / Sec. choral / Five Partsongs, op. 11 / 4 A Sad Story / Anonymous / Three children sliding on the ice / Upon a summer's day, / As it fell out, they all fell in, / The rest they ran away. / Now had these / children been at home, / Or sliding on dry ground, / Ten thousand pounds to one penny / They had not all been drowned. / You parents all that children have, / And you that have got none, / If you would have them safe abroad, / Pray keep them safe at home.
1915 / 1919 / Sec. choral / Five Partsongs, op. 11 / 5. Come All Ye Pretty Fair Maids / Anonymous / An Old Game Rhyme / A dis, a green grass.
Come all ye pretty fair maids, And dance along with us, For we are going a-roving in this land ; We'll take this pretty fair maid,We'll take her by the hand.
Ye shall get a duke, my dear,And ye shall get a young princefor your sake.
And if this young prince chance to die,
Ye shall get another; The bells will ring, and the birds will sing,And we'll all clap our hands together.
1915 / 1915 / Sacred choral / Four Anthems of the Blessed Virgin Mary, op. 9 / Regina Coeli / Regina coeli laetare Alleluia. Quia quem meruit portare, Alleluia. Resurrexit, sicut dixit, Alleluia. Ora pro nobis Deum. Alleluia.
1915 / 1988 / Sacred choral / Four Anthems of the Blessed Virgin Mary, op. 9 / Salve Regina / Anonymous / Possibly by Hermann the Lame [1013-1054] of Reichenau or by Adhemar, Bp. Of Le Puy (?-1098) / Salve Regina, Mater misericordiae, / vita, dulcedo et spes nostra, salve. / Ad te clamamus, exsules filii Evae. / Ad te suspiramus gementes et flentes
in hac lacrimarum valle. / Eia ergo, advocata nostra, / illos tuos misericordes oculos / ad nos converte. / Et Jesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui, / nobis post hoc exsilium ostende. / O clemens, o pia, o dulcis VirgoMaria.
1915 / 1919 / Solo song / Four Songs, Op. 22 / 01 – There was a Maiden / Courtney, William Leonard (1850-1928) / There was a kingdom fair to see,
But pale, so pale, with never a rose:
The cold wind blows across the lea,
Westward the pale sun goes.
There was a maiden, soft and dear,
But pale, so pale, with never a rose:
Each quiv'ring eyelid holds a tear,
Seaward her sad heart goes.
1915 / 1919 / Solo song / Four Songs, Op. 22 / 03 – The Widow Bird / Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822) / Charles the First / A widow bird sat mourning for her love
Upon a wintry bough,
The frozen wind crept on above;
The freezing stream below.
There was no leaf upon the forest bare,
No [flow'r]1 upon the ground
And little motion in the air,
Except the mill-wheel's sound.
1915 / 1918 / Solo song / Three Rondeaux, Op. 11/12 / 01 – Roses About the Arbour Entwined / Tarelli, Charles Camp / ***
1915 / 1918 / Solo song / Three Rondeaux, Op. 11/12 / 02 – A Rondel of Rest / Symons, Arthur / 1914, Poems of Arthur Symons, Vol 2, in The Loom of Dreams / The peace of a wandering sky,
Silence, only the cry
Of the crickets, suddenly still,
A bee on the window sill,
A bird's wing, rushing and soft,
Three flails that tramp in the loft,
Summer murmuring
Some sweet, slumberous thing,
Half asleep; but thou cease,
Heart, to hunger for peace,
Or, if thou must find rest,
Cease to beat in my breast.
1915 / 1918 / Solo song / Three Rondeaux, Op. 11/12 / 03 – Her Scuttle Hatt / Anon., adapt. Frank Dempster Sherman / Her scuttle Hatt is wondrous wide, / All furrie, too, on every side, / Soe out She trippeth daintylie, / To lett y e Youth full well to see, / How fay re y*/ mayde is for y e Bryde. / A lyttle puffed, may be, bye Pryde, / She yet soe lovely e is that I'd / A Shillynge give to tye, perdie,
Her scuttle Hatt. / Y e Coales into y e Scuttle slide, / Soe in her Hatt wolde I, and hide / To steale some Kisses two or three ; / But synce She never asketh me, / Y e scornful Cynick doth deride / Her scuttle Hatt !