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Welcome to Hyperion Records, an independent British classical label devoted to presenting high-quality recordings of music of all styles and from all periods from the twelfth century to the twenty-first. Hyperion offers both CDs, and downloads in a number of formats. The site is also available in several languages. Please use the dropdown buttons to set your preferred options, or use the checkbox to accept the defaults.
Das Werk beginnt mit St. Sainte Marye, Christes bur, Maidenes clenhad, moderes flur, Dilie min sinne, rix in min mod, Bring me to winne with the self God. The rose raileth hire rode, The leves on the lighte wode Waxen all with wille. The mone mandeth hire ble, The lilye is lossom to se, The fennel and the fille. Wowes this wilde drakes, Miles murgeth huere makes, Ase strem that striketh stille. Mody meneth, so doth mo; Ichot ich am on of tho For love that likes ille. The mone mandeth hire light, So doth the semly sonne bright, When briddes singeth breme.
Deawes donketh the dounes, Deores with huere derne rounes Domes for to deme. Wormes woweth under cloude, Wimmen waxeth wounder proude, So well it wol hem seme. Yef me shall wonte wille of on, This wunne wele I wole forgon, And wiht in wode be fleme. The rose puts on her rosy face, The leaves in the bright wood All grow with pleasure.
The moon sends out her radiance, The lily is lovely to see, The fennel and the wild thyme. These wild drakes make love, Animals cheer their mates, Like a stream that flows softly.
The passionate man complains, as do more; I know that I am one of those That is unhappy for love. The moon sends out her light, So does the fair, bright sun, When birds sing gloriously. Dews wet the downs, Animals with their secret cries For telling their tales. Worms make love under ground, Women grow exceedingly proud, So well it will suit them. Welle was hire mete. What was hire mete? The primerole and the— The primerole and the— Welle was hire mete. The primerole and the violet.
Welle was hire dring. What was hire dring? The chelde water of the— The chelde water of the— Welle was hire dring. The chelde water of the welle-spring. Welle was hire bowr. What was hire bowr? The rede rose and the— The rede rose and the— Welle was hire bowr.
The rede rose and the lilye flour. Good was her food. What was her food? The primrose and the— The primrose and the— Good was her food.
The primrose and the violet. Good was her drink. What was her drink? The cold water of the— The cold water of the— Good was her drink. The cold water of the well-spring. Good was her bower. What was her bower? The red rose and the— The red rose and the— Good was her bower. The red rose and the lily flower. Thanne I schel flutte From bedde to flore, From flore to here, From here to bere, From bere to putte, And te putt fordut.
Thanne lyd mine hus uppe mine nose. Of al this world ne give I it a pese! Then I shall pass From bed to floor, From floor to shroud, From shroud to bier, From bier to grave, And the grave will be closed up. Then rests my house upon my nose. Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin. Don't show me this message again. Sacred and Profane, Op 91 composer. Sacred and Profane proved to be the last choral work for professionals which Britten was to complete, although he went on to compose the Welcome Ode for amateurs in and left the score of a Sitwell setting for choir and orchestra Praise we great men unfinished on his death.
Sacred and Profane , op. Sacred and Profane op. Polyphony , Stephen Layton conductor. Dayeseyes in this dales, Notes swete of nightegales, Uch fowl song singeth.
The threstelcok him threteth oo. Away is huere winter wo When woderofe springeth. This fowles singeth ferly fele, And wliteth on huere wynne wele, That all the wode ringeth. Spring has come with love among us, With flowers and with the song of birds, That brings all this happiness. Daisies in these valleys, The sweet notes of nightingales, Each bird sings a song. The thrush wrangles all the time. Gone is their winter woe When the woodruff springs. These birds sing, wonderfully merry, And warble in their abounding joy, So that all the wood rings.
Oc nu necheth windes blast, And weder strong. And ich, with well michel wrong, Soregh and murne and fast. But now the blast of the wind draws nigh, And severe weather. And I, with very great wrong, Sorrow and mourn and fast. Polyphony , Stephen Layton conductor , Cecilia Osmond soprano. A maiden lay on the moor, Lay on the moor; A full week, A full week, A maiden lay on the moor; Lay on the moor, A full week and a day.
Beholdet, all my felawes, Yef any me lik is founde. To the Tre with nailes thre Wol fast I hange bounde; With a spere all thoru my side To mine herte is mad a wounde. You that pass by the way, Stay a little while. Behold, all my fellows, If any like me is found. To the Tree with three nails Most fast I hang bound; With a spear all through my side To my heart is made a wound. Wanne the bere is ate gate. When my eyes get misty, And my ears are full of hissing, And my nose gets cold, And my tongue folds, And my face goes slack, And my lips blacken, And my mouth grins, And my spittle runs, And my hair rises, And my heart trembles, And my hands shake, And my feet stiffen— All too late!
When the bier is at the gate. Track-specific metadata. Click track numbers above to select.
Welcome to Hyperion Records, an independent British classical label devoted to presenting high-quality recordings of music of all styles and from all periods from the twelfth century to the twenty-first. Hyperion offers both CDs, and downloads in a number of formats. The site is also available in several languages. Please use the dropdown buttons to set your preferred options, or use the checkbox to accept the defaults. Das Werk beginnt mit St. Sainte Marye, Christes bur, Maidenes clenhad, moderes flur, Dilie min sinne, rix in min mod, Bring me to winne with the self God. The rose raileth hire rode, The leves on the lighte wode Waxen all with wille.
Benjamin Britten: Sacred And Profane: SATB
Sacred and Profane , Op. The piece comprises eight lyrics based on medieval English poems. The opening song is characterized by its use of descending glissandi , rising chords, and modal inflection. The second, "I mon waxe wod", correlates nature with madness. The third setting uses syncopation and imitation to celebrate the arrival of spring, while the fourth returns to sombre winter. The fifth and seventh songs are based on the Passion , and contrast with the "folksy" sixth setting. The collection concludes with its longest piece, which as the title suggests deals with themes of mortality.