Joseph Harris
(1743 - 1814)
My pipe sounds a cheerfuller note
(Soprano/Tenor,2 Violins,Viola,'Cello,Keyboard)
Score, part(s) and cover page (PDF), €0.00 for bundled copies Download this item(1743 - 1814)
My pipe sounds a cheerfuller note
(Soprano/Tenor,2 Violins,Viola,'Cello,Keyboard)
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149501 : Harris : My pipe sounds a cheerfuller note : 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: Anon
My pipe sounds a cheerfuller note;
My crook is new garnish'd with flow'rs.
The day to sweet thoughts I devote,
Where blossom the eglantine bow'rs.
Just now, as I walk'd thro' the grove,
I met my dear Delia there,
And told her a tale of my love,
Which she seem'd with soft pleasure to hear.
A blush, like the blush of the dawn,
Stole over her beautiful cheek;
Smiles, sweeter than infants new-born,
Told more than I wish her to speak.
I stole from her hand a sweet kiss,
Nor tried she to draw it away;
No description comes up to the bliss
That reigns in my bosom today.
Methinks ev'ry zephyr that blows,
Soft music conveys to my ear;
Methinks ev'ry flow'ret that grows,
More blooming and fresh doth appear.
The birds tune their musical throats
And sing most delightfully sweet;
In soft and more delicate notes
Sweet Echo my sighs doth repeat.
My pipe sounds a cheerfuller note;
My crook is new garnish'd with flow'rs.
The day to sweet thoughts I devote,
Where blossom the eglantine bow'rs.
Just now, as I walk'd thro' the grove,
I met my dear Delia there,
And told her a tale of my love,
Which she seem'd with soft pleasure to hear.
A blush, like the blush of the dawn,
Stole over her beautiful cheek;
Smiles, sweeter than infants new-born,
Told more than I wish her to speak.
I stole from her hand a sweet kiss,
Nor tried she to draw it away;
No description comes up to the bliss
That reigns in my bosom today.
Methinks ev'ry zephyr that blows,
Soft music conveys to my ear;
Methinks ev'ry flow'ret that grows,
More blooming and fresh doth appear.
The birds tune their musical throats
And sing most delightfully sweet;
In soft and more delicate notes
Sweet Echo my sighs doth repeat.