That which is not worth speaking they sing.
[Fr., Ce qui ne vaut pas la peine d'etre dit, on read more

That which is not worth speaking they sing.
[Fr., Ce qui ne vaut pas la peine d'etre dit, on le chante.]

Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing read more

Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us
To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
As if his life lay on't.

Come, sing now, sing; for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.

Come, sing now, sing; for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
read more

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.

Sang in tones of deep emotion
Songs of love and songs of longing.

Sang in tones of deep emotion
Songs of love and songs of longing.

The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In read more

The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In fact, he had no singing education,
An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain.
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again;
The moving read more

But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain.
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again;
The moving mountains hear the powerful call.
And headlong streams hand listening in their fall!

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.