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Jeremiah Clark
(c.1743 - 1809)
Distress me with thy tears no more
(Soprano/Tenor,2 Violas,Continuo)
Score, part(s) and cover page (PDF), €1.00 for bundled copies Buy this item(c.1743 - 1809)
Distress me with thy tears no more
(Soprano/Tenor,2 Violas,Continuo)
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149491 : Clark : Distress me with thy tears no more : sheet music
Catalogued as Choral - Secular (Songs and Concert Airs)
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Ten songs, Op. 4, publ. c.1791.
Lyrics: Anon
Distress me with thy tears no more,
One kiss my love and then adieu;
The last boat destin'd for the shore
Waits, dearest girl, alone for you.
Soon, soon shall I on light winds borne,
Shall I be sever'd from your sight;
You left the lonely home to mourn
And weep thro' many a stormy night.
When far along the restless deep
In trim array the ship shall steer,
Your form resemblance still shall keep,
Your worth affection still revere.
And with the distance from your eyes,
My love for you shall be increas'd,
As to the pole the needle lies
And furthest off still varies least.
While round the bowl the cheerful crew
Shall sing of triumphs on the main,
My thoughts shall fondly turn to you;
Of you alone shall be my strain.
And when we've bow'd the leaguering foe,
Revengeful for our country's wrong,
Returning home my heart shall shew
No fiction graced my artless song.
Distress me with thy tears no more,
One kiss my love and then adieu;
The last boat destin'd for the shore
Waits, dearest girl, alone for you.
Soon, soon shall I on light winds borne,
Shall I be sever'd from your sight;
You left the lonely home to mourn
And weep thro' many a stormy night.
When far along the restless deep
In trim array the ship shall steer,
Your form resemblance still shall keep,
Your worth affection still revere.
And with the distance from your eyes,
My love for you shall be increas'd,
As to the pole the needle lies
And furthest off still varies least.
While round the bowl the cheerful crew
Shall sing of triumphs on the main,
My thoughts shall fondly turn to you;
Of you alone shall be my strain.
And when we've bow'd the leaguering foe,
Revengeful for our country's wrong,
Returning home my heart shall shew
No fiction graced my artless song.