How careful was I (Michael Gray): Difference between revisions
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==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
{{ | {{Text|English| | ||
How careful was I when I took my way, | |||
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, | |||
That to my use it might un-used stay | |||
From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust? | |||
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, | |||
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, | |||
Thou best of dearest, and mine only care, | |||
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief. | |||
Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest, | |||
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art, | |||
Within the gentle closure of my breast, | |||
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part, | |||
And even thence thou wilt be stol'n I fear, | |||
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.}} | |||
''William Shakespeare (Sonnet XLVIII)'' | |||
[[Category:Sheet music]] | [[Category:Sheet music]] | ||
[[Category:Modern music]] | [[Category:Modern music]] | ||
Revision as of 21:26, 22 October 2019
Music files
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- (Posted 2019-10-22) CPDL #55696:
- Editor: Michael Gray (submitted 2019-10-22). Score information: Letter (landscape), 7 pages, 214 kB Copyright: CC BY NC ND
- Edition notes: "How careful was I" by Michael A. Gray is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
General Information
Title: How careful was I
Composer: Michael Gray
Lyricist: William Shakespeare
Number of voices: 3vv Voicing: SAB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: Piano
First published: 2019
Description: Part of an on-going series of SABpn works on the Sonnets.
External websites: http://www.graymichael.com
Original text and translations
English text
How careful was I when I took my way,
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
That to my use it might un-used stay
From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust?
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part,
And even thence thou wilt be stol'n I fear,
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
William Shakespeare (Sonnet XLVIII)