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Canciones más populares de Roland Wood

Créditos

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Roland Wood
Roland Wood
Bariton
Martyn Brabbins
Martyn Brabbins
Dirigent:in
English Northern Philharmonia
English Northern Philharmonia
Orchester
Christopher Purves
Christopher Purves
Bariton
Elgan Llŷr Thomas
Elgan Llŷr Thomas
Tenor
Huddersfield Choral Society
Huddersfield Choral Society
Chor
David Greed
David Greed
Leiter:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Harry Arbuthnot Acworth
Harry Arbuthnot Acworth
Songwriter:in
Sir Edward Elgar
Sir Edward Elgar
Komponist:in

Letras

Arch-Druid: Bard, what read ye in the field
Of the war-god’s silver shield?
Orbin: Round the field the shadows gather,
Dull, and dim, and dark, my father.
Arch-Druid: Vanish, shadows! let him see
Clearly what the omens be.
Orbin: I see an eagle flying
With beak and talons red,
I see a warrior lying
On the green earth dead.
Chorus: Taranis, descend to aid!
Arch-Druid: Grim the vision, grim and stern,
Minstrel, which thine eyes discern:
Gaze again, and mark it well,
What thou seest, speak and tell.
Orbin: Dim and dark the shadows gather
Round the shield again, my father.
Arch-Druid: No more, the fated hour is past.
(The Druid Maidens resume the choric measure round the Oak)
Druid Maidens: Thread the measure left and right,
Druid maidens, clad in white.
Arch-Druid (aside) and Druids: The omens speak in gloom at last;
And must our hero toil in vain
Unbless’d upon the battle plain?
Or, with the Druids’ blessing go,
Like fire from heaven, upon the foe?
Desert your priests, ye gods; tonight
Still shall his soul be arm’d for fight:
Arch-Druid: Children, break off the mystic ring:
Attend,—obey,—behold the King.
(Enter Caractacus and Soldiers)
Caractacus: Hail to thee, father: Druids, hail!
Interpreters of bliss and bale,
Tell me, before I meet the foe,
What fate the holy omens show.
(The Arch-Druid ascends his throne)
Arch-Druid: For the banded tribes of Britain
I stretch my arms abroad,
Mine is the ancient wisdom,
And mine the voice of god;
Go forth, O King, to conquer,
And all the land shall know,
When falls thy charmed sword edge,
In thunder on the foe.
Chorus: Go forth, O King, to conquer,
In thunder on the foe.
Arch-Druid: But Rome and all her legions
Shall shudder at the stroke,
The weapon of the war-god,
The shadow of the Oak;
The blade that blasts and withers,
The dark and dreadful spell,
Which reaping in the whirlwind,
Shall harvest them in hell.
Written by: Harry Arbuthnot Acworth, Sir Edward Elgar
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