Three songs to poems by Thomas Hardy - 2

歌词
I sang that song on Sunday,
To witch an idle while,
I sang that song on Monday,
As fittest to beguile;
I sang it as the year outwore,
And the new slid in;
I thought not what might shape before
Another would begin.
I sang that song in summer,
All unforeknowingly,
To him as a new-comer
From regions strange to me:
I sang it when in afteryears
The shades stretched out,
And paths were faint; and flocking fears
Brought cup-eyed care and doubt.
Sings he that song on Sundays
In some dim land afar,
On Saturdays, or Mondays,
As when the evening star
Glimpsed in upon his bending face
And my hanging hair,
And time untouched me with a trace
Of soul-smart or despair?
专辑信息
1.Penumbra
2.When I am dead
3.Great Things
4.Sea Fever
5.The bells of San Marie
6.Vagabond
7.Santa Chiara (Psalm Sunday, Naples)
8.Tryst (in Fountain Court)
9.During Music
10.Youth's Spring-Tribute
11.Spleen
12.I have twelve oxen
13.The cost
14.The Salley Gardens
15.Tutto ?sciolto
16.If there were dreams to sell
17.We'll to the woods - 1
18.We'll to the woods - 2
19.We'll to the woods - 3
20.Five poems by Thomas Hardy - 1
21.Five poems by Thomas Hardy - 2
22.Five poems by Thomas Hardy - 3
23.Five poems by Thomas Hardy - 5
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25.Three songs to poems by Thomas Hardy - 1
26.Three songs to poems by Thomas Hardy - 2
27.Three songs to poems by Thomas Hardy - 3