Joseph Harris
(1743 - 1814)
Sweet are the banks
(Soprano/Tenor,2 Violins,Continuo)
Score, part(s) and cover page (PDF), €0.00 for bundled copies Download this item(1743 - 1814)
Sweet are the banks
(Soprano/Tenor,2 Violins,Continuo)
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149499 : Harris : Sweet are the banks : sheet music
Catalogued as Choral - Secular (Songs and Concert Airs)
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Publ. 1768. Harris was organist of St Lawrence's church, Ludlow. His songs were presumably intended for concert performance. His extensive subscription list included many composers/concert organizers from neighbouring counties, amongst them Charles Burney (Shrewsbury), Capel Bond (Wolverhampton), Joseph Corfe (Salisbury), Jeremiah Clark (Birmingham), William Felton (Worcester), William Jackson (Exeter)and William Herschel, Thomas Linley and Benjamin Milgrove (all of Bath).
Lyrics: William Woty
Sweet are the banks where spring perfumes
The verdant plants and laughing flow'rs;
Fragrant the violet as it blooms,
And sweet the blossom after show'rs.
Sweet is the soft, the sunny breeze,
That fans the golden orange grove;
But oh! How sweeter far than these
Are the dear smiles of her I love.
Ye roses, blushing in your beds,
That with your odours scent the air;
Ye lilies chaste, with silver heads
As my Cleora's bosom fair:
No more I court ypur balmy sweets;
For I, and I alone, can prove
How sweeter, when each other meets,
Are the dear smiles of her I love.
Her tempting eyes my gaze inclin'd,
Their pleasing lesson first I caught;
Her sense, her friendship next confin'd
The willing pupil she had taught.
Should Fortune, stooping from her sky,
Conduct me to her bright alcove;
Yet, like the turtle, I should die,
Denied the smiles of her I love.
Sweet are the banks where spring perfumes
The verdant plants and laughing flow'rs;
Fragrant the violet as it blooms,
And sweet the blossom after show'rs.
Sweet is the soft, the sunny breeze,
That fans the golden orange grove;
But oh! How sweeter far than these
Are the dear smiles of her I love.
Ye roses, blushing in your beds,
That with your odours scent the air;
Ye lilies chaste, with silver heads
As my Cleora's bosom fair:
No more I court ypur balmy sweets;
For I, and I alone, can prove
How sweeter, when each other meets,
Are the dear smiles of her I love.
Her tempting eyes my gaze inclin'd,
Their pleasing lesson first I caught;
Her sense, her friendship next confin'd
The willing pupil she had taught.
Should Fortune, stooping from her sky,
Conduct me to her bright alcove;
Yet, like the turtle, I should die,
Denied the smiles of her I love.