Purcell - Tell me, some pitying angel, Z196 (Lynne Dawson) | Текст песни

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• Purcell
• Tell me, some pitying angel, Z196 (Lynne Dawson)

The Blessed Virgin's Expostulation

Tell me, tell me some, some pitying angel,
Tell quickly, quickly, quickly say,
Where, where does my soul's sweet darling stray,
In tiger's or more cruel, more cruel cruel Herod's way?
Ah, ah rather, rather let his little, little footsteps press
Unregarded through the wilderness,
Where milder, milder, where milder savages resort,
The desert's safer, the desert's safer than a tyrant's court.
Why, why, fairest object of my love,
Why, why dost thou from my longing eyes remove?
Was it, was it a waking dream that did fortell thy wondrous birth,
Thy wondrous, wondrous birth?
No vision, no, no vision from above?
Where's Gabriel, where's Gabriel now that visited my cell?
I call, I call, I call: Gabriel! Gabriel!
He comes not.
Flatt'ring, flatt'ring hopes, farewell flatt'ring hopes, farewell.
Me Judah's daughters once caress'd,
Call'd me of mothers the most, the most bless'd.
Now fatal change, of mothers most distress'd.
How, how shall my soul its motions guide?
How, how shall I stem the various, various tide,
Whilst faith and doubt my lab'ring soul divide?
For whilst of thy dear, dear sight beguil'd,
I trust the God, but oh! I fear, but oh! I fear the child.


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