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Thomas Billington (arr.)
(1754 - ?1832)
Alloa House
(S.T.B.)
Full score (PDF), €0.00 for unlimited copies Download this item(1754 - ?1832)
Alloa House
(S.T.B.)
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Billington issued two sets of "glees selected from the Scotch songs" in the late 1780s, to satisfy two contemporary enthusiasms: that for mixed sex social music, and that for all things North-British. The current arrangement comes from the second set.
These glees were selected from a repertoire of well-known Scottish songs that had been anthologised in the previous seventy years. Verses that are not underlaid were not included by Billington, and have been imported from external sources.
These glees were selected from a repertoire of well-known Scottish songs that had been anthologised in the previous seventy years. Verses that are not underlaid were not included by Billington, and have been imported from external sources.
Lyrics: Alexander Webster
The springtime returns and clothes the green plains,
And Alloa shines more cheerful and gay;
The lark tunes his throat, and the neighbouring swains
Sing merrily round me whenever I stray.
But Sandy no more returns to my view,
No springtime me cheers, no music can charm,
He's gone and I fear me forever adieu.
Adieu every pleasure this bosom can charm.
O, Alloa House, how much thou art changed,
How silent, how dull to me is each grove.
Alone I here wander where once we both ranged,
Alas, where to please me my Sandy once strove.
Here, Sandy I heard the tales that you told,
Here listened whenever you sung.
Am I grown less fair then, that you are turned cold?
Or foolish believed a false flattering tongue?
The springtime returns and clothes the green plains,
And Alloa shines more cheerful and gay;
The lark tunes his throat, and the neighbouring swains
Sing merrily round me whenever I stray.
But Sandy no more returns to my view,
No springtime me cheers, no music can charm,
He's gone and I fear me forever adieu.
Adieu every pleasure this bosom can charm.
O, Alloa House, how much thou art changed,
How silent, how dull to me is each grove.
Alone I here wander where once we both ranged,
Alas, where to please me my Sandy once strove.
Here, Sandy I heard the tales that you told,
Here listened whenever you sung.
Am I grown less fair then, that you are turned cold?
Or foolish believed a false flattering tongue?