Corinna's Songbook (Four English Lyrics), for mezzo-soprano and piano

  • This is a cycle of four songs on poems by Thomas Campion, John Donne, Siegfried Sassoon and John Wilmot, the Second Earl of Rochester.

  • Iznaola-Corinna's Songbook I.wmv

    When to Her Lute Corinna Sings

    When to her lute Corinna sings,/Her voice revives the leaden strings,/And doth in highest notes appear/As any challenged echo clear./But when she doth of mourning speak,/E'en with her sighs the strings do break.

    And as her lute doth live or die,/Led by her passion, so must I./For when of pleasure she doth sing,/My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring;/But if she doth of sorrow speak,/E'en from my heart the strings do break.

    Thomas Campion (c. 1567–1620)

  • Iznaola-Corinna's Songbook II.wmv

    Break of Day

    Stay, O sweet, and do not rise;/The light that shines comes from thine eyes;/The day breaks not, it is my heart,/Because that you and I must part./Stay, or else my joys will die,/And perish in their infancy.

    John Donne (1572–1631)

  • Iznaola-Corinna's Songbook III.wmv

    Slumber Song

    Sleep; and my song shall build about your bed/A paradise of dimness. You shall feel/The folding of tired wings; and peace will dwell/Throned in your silence; and one hour shall hold/Summer, and midnight, and immensity/Lulled to forgetfulness. For, where you dream,/The stately gloom of foliage shall embower/Your slumbering thought with tapestries of blue./And there shall be no memory of the sky,/Nor sunlight with its cruelty of swords./But, to your soul that sinks from deep to deep/Through drowned and glimmering colour, time shall be/Only slow rhythmic swaying; and your breath;/And roses in the darkness; and my love.

    Siegfried Sassoon (1886–1967)

  • Iznaola-Corinna's Songbook IV.wmv

    A Song of a Young Lady To Her Ancient Lover

    Ancient person, for whom I,/All the flattering Youth defy;/Long be it e're thou grow Old,/Aking, shaking, Crazy Cold./But still continue as thou art,/Antient Person of my Heart.

    On thy withered Lips and dry,/Which like barren Furrows lye;/Brooding Kisses I will pour,/Shall thy youthful Heat restore./Such kind Show'rs in Autumn fall,/And a second Spring recall:/Nor from thee will ever part,/Antient Person of my Heart.

    Thy Nobler part, which but to name/In our Sex wou'd be counted shame/By Age's frozen grasp possest,/From his Ice shall be releast:/And, sooth'd by my reviving hand,/In former Warmth and Vigor stand./ All a Lover's wish can reach,/For thy Joy my Love shall teach:/And for thy Pleasure shall improve,/All that Art can add to Love./Yet still I love thee without Art,/Antient Person of my Heart.

    John Wilmot, Second Earl of Rochester (1647–1680)

This portfolio last updated: 24-Aug-2019 4:14 PM