The Gift (Huub de Lange): Difference between revisions

From ChoralWiki
Jump to navigation Jump to search
(Added default sort template)
Line 22: Line 22:
==Original text and translations==
==Original text and translations==


{{NoText}}
{{Text|English}}
<poem>
You sent me flowers when I lay ill.
Their tender beauty seemed to fill
My room with all earth’s loveliness.
I thought my life rich heretofore
When busy hand and teeming brain
Gave me no pause to stay and pore
Over God’s wonders wrought so plain.
In flower and leave on ev’ry hand.
Ah me! I did not understand
How poor in very truth I was
until my weakness gave me pause,
Till I lay idle, lonely, ill
And knew myself rich indeed,
Rich beyond all desert or meed,
Showered by the infinite largesse
Of sweet and subtle loveliness
Revealed me hour by hour in these
Half dozen delicate irises.
</poem>


{{DEFAULTSORT:Gift, The (Huub de Lange)}}
{{DEFAULTSORT:Gift, The (Huub de Lange)}}

Revision as of 13:53, 24 March 2009

Music files

L E G E N D Disclaimer How to download
ICON SOURCE
File details.gif File details
Question.gif Help


  • CPDL #12275: Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_snd_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif
Editor: Huub de Lange (submitted 2006-08-11).   Score information: A4, 4 pages, 76 kbytes   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: The gift
Composer: Huub de Lange

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB

Genre: Secular, Partsongs

Language: English

Instruments: a cappella
Published: 2004

Description: #2 from Three Stuart Songs

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

You sent me flowers when I lay ill.
Their tender beauty seemed to fill
My room with all earth’s loveliness.
I thought my life rich heretofore
When busy hand and teeming brain
Gave me no pause to stay and pore
Over God’s wonders wrought so plain.
In flower and leave on ev’ry hand.
Ah me! I did not understand
How poor in very truth I was
until my weakness gave me pause,
Till I lay idle, lonely, ill
And knew myself rich indeed,
Rich beyond all desert or meed,
Showered by the infinite largesse
Of sweet and subtle loveliness
Revealed me hour by hour in these
Half dozen delicate irises.