The old oaken bucket (George Kiallmark): Difference between revisions

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==Original text and translations==
==Original text and translations==
<!-- <b>Original text: </b> -->
{{Text|English}}
:How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood
:When fond recollections presents them to view
:the orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood,
:And ev'ry loved spot which my infancy knew
:The wide spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
:The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell;
:The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it,
:And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well.
::''The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,''
::''The moss-cover'd bucket that hung in the well.''


<!-- <b>Translation(s): </b> -->
:That moss covered bucket I hailed as a treasure,
:For often at noon, when return'd from the field,
:I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
:The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
:How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing,
:And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell
:Then soon, with the emblem of turth ov'erflowing,
:And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well.
 
:How sweet from the green, mossy brim to receive it,
:As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!
:Not a full blishing goblet could tempt me to leave it,
:Tho' filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
:And now, far removed from the loved habitation,
:The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
:As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,
:And sighs for the bucket that hung in the well.


[[Category:Sheet music]][[Category:Solo vocal music]][[Category:Secular music]][[Category:Folksongs]][[Category:Romantic music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]][[Category:Solo vocal music]][[Category:Secular music]][[Category:Folksongs]][[Category:Romantic music]]

Revision as of 10:39, 16 November 2007

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Editor: Mutopia (added 2004-04-08).   Score information: 2 pages, kbytes   Copyright: MutopiaBSD
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Old Oaken Bucket, The
Composer: George Kiallmark

Number of voices: 1vv  Voicing: S
Genre: Secular, Folksongs
Language: English
Instruments: piano
Published:

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood
When fond recollections presents them to view
the orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood,
And ev'ry loved spot which my infancy knew
The wide spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well.
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-cover'd bucket that hung in the well.
That moss covered bucket I hailed as a treasure,
For often at noon, when return'd from the field,
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing,
And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell
Then soon, with the emblem of turth ov'erflowing,
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well.
How sweet from the green, mossy brim to receive it,
As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!
Not a full blishing goblet could tempt me to leave it,
Tho' filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
And now, far removed from the loved habitation,
The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,
And sighs for the bucket that hung in the well.