Oh ce biel lusôr di lune - Score

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La venganza de la. La Paciencia de la arana. La herencia de la tierra. La memoria de la Tierra. La Vispera De La Cuaresma. La Guerre de la Sor'ciere. La forteresse de la perle. Read more. La Hora De La. La verdad de la obra de arte. De la suffisance de la religion naturelle. I remember. That very time I saw, but thou couldst not, Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts; But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower; the herb I show'd thee once: The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees. Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again Ere the leviathan can swim a league. I'll put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes. Having once this juice, I'll watch Titania when she is asleep, And drop the liquor of it in her eyes.

The next thing then she waking looks upon, Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, On meddling monkey, or on busy ape, She shall pursue it with the soul of love: And ere I take this charm from off her sight, As I can take it with another herb, I'll make her render up her page to me. But who comes here? I am invisible; And I will overhear their conference. I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.

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Where is Lysander and fair Hermia? The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.

Debussy - Clair de Lune from Suite Bergamasque (Crossley)

Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this wood; And here am I, and wode within this wood, Because I cannot meet my Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.

And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you. What worser place can I beg in your love, - And yet a place of high respect with me, - Than to be used as you use your dog? Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick when I do look on thee.


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And I am sick when I look not on you. You do impeach your modesty too much, To leave the city and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not; To trust the opportunity of night And the ill counsel of a desert place With the rich worth of your virginity. Your virtue is my privilege: for that It is not night when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night; Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you in my respect are all the world: Then how can it be said I am alone, When all the world is here to look on me?

I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.

Oh ce biel lusôr di lune Sheet Music by Traditional

I will not stay thy questions; let me go: Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do; We should be wooed and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.


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  • A chei timps il non al indicave ancje la balene. Al torne PUCK. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love. Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. Ay, there it is.

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    I pray thee, give it me. I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine: There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight; And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in: And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes, And make her full of hateful fantasies.

    Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove: A sweet Athenian lady is in love With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes; But do it when the next thing he espies May be the lady: thou shalt know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on. Effect it with some care, that he may prove More fond on her than she upon her love: And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow. Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.


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      Buine gnot! Come, now a roundel and a fairy song; Then, for the third part of a minute, hence; Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, Some war with reremice for their leathern wings, To make my small elves coats, and some keep back The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders At our quaint spirits.

      Sing me now asleep; Then to your offices and let me rest. You spotted snakes with double tongue, Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong, Come not near our fairy queen. Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby: Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh; So, good night, with lullaby.

      Weaving spiders, come not here; Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!

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      Beetles black, approach not near; Worm nor snail, do no offence. Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby: 18, 19,. Dome une, di bande, di sentinele e reste. Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh; So, good night, with lullaby. Hence, away!

      What thou seest when thou dost wake, Do it for thy true love take, Love and languish for his sake: Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, Pard, or boar with bristled hair, In thy eye that shall appear When thou wakest, it is thy dear: Wake when some vile thing is near. Si indurmidissin. Gnot e sito E ca je la dumble, ben indurmidide su la tiere sporcje e bagnade. Anime graceose! Through the forest have I gone. Night and silence.

      Weeds of Athens he doth wear: This is he, my master said, Despised the Athenian maid; And here the maiden, sleeping sound, On the dank and dirty ground.

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      Pretty soul! She durst not lie Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw All the power this charm doth owe. Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood; And to speak troth, I have forgot our way: We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day. Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed; For I upon this bank will rest my head. No, no, jo o soi tant che un ors orent, par chest lis bestiis che o incuintri, a scjampin di spavent.

      Ce ti impuartie? Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear, Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.

      O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence! Love takes the meaning in love's conference.