The sea hath many a thousand sands (Charles Hubert Hastings Parry): Difference between revisions

From ChoralWiki
Jump to navigation Jump to search
No edit summary
Line 22: Line 22:
==Original text and translations==
==Original text and translations==


{{NoText}}
{{Text|English}}
<poem>
The sea hath many thousand sands,
The sun hath motes as many;
The sky is full of stars, and Love
As full of woes as any;
Believe me, that do know the elf,
And make no trial by thyself.
 
It is in truth a pretty toy
For babes to play withal;
But O, the honies of our youth
Are oft our age's gall:
Self-proof in time will make thee know
He was a prophet told you so.
 
A prophet that, Cassandra-like,
Tells truth without belief;
For head strong Youth will run his race,
Although his goal be grief,
Love's martyr, when his heat is past,
Proves Care's confessor at the last.
</poem>


[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Early 20th century music]]
[[Category:Early 20th century music]]

Revision as of 11:17, 20 December 2011

Music files

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


CPDL #25133:  Icon_pdf.gif Icon_snd.gif Sibelius 6 
Editor: Ian Haslam (submitted 2011-12-11).   Score information: A4, 5 pages, 64 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: The sea hath many a thousand sands
Composer: Charles Hubert Hastings Parry

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB

Genre: SecularPartsong

Language: English
Instruments: Piano
Published: 1897

Description: Originally published by Novello, Ewer and Co Partsong number 775

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

The sea hath many thousand sands,
The sun hath motes as many;
The sky is full of stars, and Love
As full of woes as any;
Believe me, that do know the elf,
And make no trial by thyself.

It is in truth a pretty toy
For babes to play withal;
But O, the honies of our youth
Are oft our age's gall:
Self-proof in time will make thee know
He was a prophet told you so.

A prophet that, Cassandra-like,
Tells truth without belief;
For head strong Youth will run his race,
Although his goal be grief,
Love's martyr, when his heat is past,
Proves Care's confessor at the last.