The little black boy (Huub de Lange): Difference between revisions

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*{{NewWork|2007-09-13}} '''CPDL #15021:'''  [http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/2/26/Huub_de_Lange~THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY.pdf {{pdf}}] [http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/5/53/Midi_file-Huub_de_Lange~THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY.MID {{mid}}]
*{{NewWork|2007-09-14}} '''CPDL #15021:'''  [http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/2/26/Huub_de_Lange~THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY.pdf {{pdf}}] [http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/5/53/Midi_file-Huub_de_Lange~THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY.MID {{mid}}]
:'''Editor:''' [[User:Huub de Lange|Huub de Lange]] ''(added 2007-09-14)''.   '''Score information: '''Unknown, 15 pages,  kbytes   '''Copyright:''' [[ChoralWiki:Personal|Personal]]
:'''Editor:''' [[User:Huub de Lange|Huub de Lange]] ''(added 2007-09-14)''.   '''Score information: '''Unknown, 15 pages,  kbytes   '''Copyright:''' [[ChoralWiki:Personal|Personal]]



Revision as of 11:00, 14 September 2007

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CPDL #15021:  Icon_pdf.gif Icon_snd.gif
Editor: Huub de Lange (added 2007-09-14).   Score information: Unknown, 15 pages, kbytes   Copyright: Personal

General Information

Title: The Little Black Boy
Composer: Huub de Lange

Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsongs
Language: English
Instruments: (A Capella)
Published: 2007

Description: Text: William Blake (1757-1827)

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text


My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but oh! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black as if bereaved of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say:

"Look on the rising sun, -there God does live
And gives his light, and gives his heat away;
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.

And we are put on earth a little space
That we may learn to bear the beams of love;
And these black bodies and this sunburnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

For when our souls have learned the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish, we shall hear his voice
Saying: `Come out from the grove, my love and care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice!' "

Thus did my mother say, and kissed me;
And thus I say to little English boy:
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,

I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our father's knee;
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.


William Blake