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John Clarke-Whitfeld
(1770 - 1836)
Low in yon vale
(S.A.T.B. + reduction)
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Low in yon vale
(S.A.T.B. + reduction)
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From Eight Glees, Op. 4. Published in 1798, when Clarke was Master of the Boys at the Chapel Royal, Dublin.
Lyrics: John Clarke-Whitfeld
Low in yon vale, where winds the silver stream,
And lilies lurk beneath the beechen grove,
I fondly meditate by Luna's beam
And mourn the sorrows of a hopeless love.
The joys of life to me are now no more,
For faithless Delia's to another gone;
Come gentle death, thy aid I now implore
To ease a heart that's doomed to grief alone.
Low in yon vale, where winds the silver stream,
And lilies lurk beneath the beechen grove,
I fondly meditate by Luna's beam
And mourn the sorrows of a hopeless love.
The joys of life to me are now no more,
For faithless Delia's to another gone;
Come gentle death, thy aid I now implore
To ease a heart that's doomed to grief alone.